


Mirrorball

by thedeadflag



Series: Province [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, F/F, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 57,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadflag/pseuds/thedeadflag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally safe at home after their weekend trapped in the wilderness, Santana and Rachel both find themselves wondering what exactly is next for them. With school ending soon, and the freedom of summer on the horizon, can they find their way, or will a certain blonde duo need to assist?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rachel's morning was off to an exceedingly pleasant start. Not only had she woken up in her bed of all places, which was arguably the comfiest sleep-inducing object in existence from how rested she felt, but she also was in her room. She'd almost teared up at the sight of her Broadway show posters on her walls, the elliptical in the corner of her room, and her large stack of sheet music she'd planned on organizing that summer in preparation for the next school year. It was such a beautiful relieving sight, and though there were some aspects of waking in the forest that she doubtlessly missed terribly, Rachel really was happy to be home again.

Ultimately, her body felt wonderful, at least in comparison to how it had felt days past. In a way, her weekend escapade with Santana had almost felt like a dream; heck, she would have believed it if not for the small, mostly healed wound on her head that reminded her of her journey. Rachel couldn't help but smile, recalling that she'd been so terrified of the former cheerleader that she had assumed Santana would kill her with her knife. It still amazed her that the truth was so far from what she'd expected.

It meant so much to her that Santana had been there for her whenever she needed her; Rachel had barely woken from her nightmare before realizing she'd called Santana's number, desperately needing to hear the girl's voice. Her evening had been mostly filled with father-daughter comfort activities, such as baking cookies and watching talent shows, but rarely were her thoughts far from Santana. Between the emotional ride home, the movie night she'd had to miss, and the kiss she'd given her friend, there was just a lot to reflect on.

She loved her dad Hiram to death, but if she were honest, she would have preferred to be on the girl's bed, watching movies with the other girls; not only was it an activity she'd rarely been able to participate in throughout high school, but she just kind of wanted to snuggle with her new friend, and perhaps work toward winning over the two blondes. Ever since kissing the girl's cheek, she'd been flooded with thoughts of Santana. A few of which honestly troubled her hypothesis on the friendship crush she had on the cheerleader. It wasn't as if she was uncomfortable about any of it, it's just that she'd never been attracted in such a way to other women before that weekend. And to that, Rachel was pretty sure whatever attraction she did harbor was simply hero worship, which would assuredly fade.

_Though, is it still hero worship when barely any of my thoughts or daydreams involve her saving me or being heroic?_ She wondered, as she slipped out of bed, bypassing her elliptical as her father had ordered her the previous night. Rachel knew, however, that if her daddy had been present, he'd have vetoed the order for her. It was one thing that she was excited for that morning, as she hadn't seen her daddy yet since she got in, having missed him by a half hour; LeRoy was unfortunately called into work to perform some surgery the previous day. They'd had a short phone conversation on his break, but she wanted to actually see him and have him give her one of his big bear-hugs.

In a way, as she descended the stairs, it felt like just an average, every-day morning; all the familiar scents and sounds were there. The only thing missing was the dull burn of her muscles after her routine workout, seeing as she'd been made to skip it. Sure, she knew it was a big thing, being back home after such a wild weekend, but somewhere along the line, she'd stopped doubting Santana's assertions that they'd get home. She'd accepted that she'd be back eventually, and that ended up helping it seem kind of just like any other day for her, even if it certainly wasn't for her parents.

Which became clear as soon as she took the last step off the stairs, surprisingly finding herself pulled into one of her daddy's hugs, the man spinning her around as he clutched her tightly. "Oh my sweet baby girl." He choked out, clearly emotional. Rachel was pretty sure that out of both of her fathers, her personality tended to be much more influenced by LeRoy than Hiram. Both tended to be a bit overbearing, hyperactive, creative and wildly dramatic at the best of times. "You're never, ever going camping again." LeRoy continued, pulling away slightly, his worried expression making her feel a little guilty. Not only had she wrecked the car, but she may have added an extra wrinkle or two to his face, which meant that her daddy would be fussing over face cream and other skincare products for the next month.

"I'm fine, Daddy. I was fortunately stranded with someone who was both incredibly capable and attentive to my needs while out in the wild. And given that our improvised camping expedition was entirely unplanned, with most of the events strictly influenced by the fact that we were backpacking through the wilderness instead of on a safe camp site, I would say that we didn't go camping at all in any traditional sense." Rachel rambled, knowing that at least her daddy had the attention span to appreciate her words even when she was prattling on and on.

Rachel smiled as he gave her another loving squeeze before letting her go, placing her back down on her feet. "You've been quiet about all the details of what happened out there. All I've been able to drag out of Hiram is that you were briefly hospitalized, while your glee friend had to stay overnight." He noted, leading her to the kitchen table, where breakfast was waiting for her. Rachel kind of wished it wasn't a shipment day at her dad's restaurant, knowing she'd have felt more comfortable with him around to keep a cap on her daddy's dramatics.

She sat down and happily popped a peach chunk into her mouth, feeling a little peckish still after her big adventure, despite the large dinner the day before, and the large brunch. "I knew you'd have today off, and I didn't want to make you worry when someone else's life was in your hands, daddy." She started, though immediately regretted her choice of words when his eyes grew wide as saucers. "I just know that you're a worrywart like I am, remember when I got a big papercut in fifth grade, and you kept me home the rest of the day for 'observation'?"

He wilted a bit at her good-natured challenge, clearly moving to compose himself after being called out like that. "Okay, so I worry. I'm your father, that's what I do best." He stated, looking a little embarrassed as he frowned concernedly at her. "Now, you were saying?"

"Yes, well…as I mentioned earlier, I had a very capable companion with me that I'm eternally grateful for. So when I lost control of the vehicle and crashed…where I received nearly all of my physical injuries from the trip, which were thankfully quite minor…I was given excellent first aid." She noted succinctly, ducking her head a little as she pointed to the healing wound at her hairline. After giving her daddy a few seconds to inspect it, she lifted her head and continued, spotting that she'd only have time to really give the short version of the story if she wanted to get to school as early as usual. "Santana patched me up and calmed me down. On our way…"

"Santana…as in Doctor Lopez' daughter? The one who'd been antagonizing you for a while now?" LeRoy asked, clearly confused and surprised. Rachel didn't blame him, as she tended to tell her fathers nearly everything, so they'd known her tumultuous history with the former cheerleader. She gave a short nod and a smile to let him know that it wasn't a bad thing that she'd been stuck with the girl. "Well…I suppose she would have been handy. Her dad used to always take her out into the woods for days at a time."

"She was admittedly much more competent than I was, and certainly more aware of the dangers that existed out there. We had a run in with some men late that night…Santana had to fight them off with her hatchet. Thankfully, neither of us were harmed." She stated, raising her hand as she saw her father about to blurt out something that probably had to do with Santana wielding her hatchet, or the fact that her safety had been threatened. Her father, much like her, was something of a pacifist, and tended to hated weaponry. "She only had one so that she could chop up wood for fires, but I'm thankful she had it. She didn't let anyone get close to me, Daddy, and she scared them off. At least, for a while."

LeRoy's eyebrows looked as if they were taking permanent residence at the top of her forehead, his eyes rife with anger and concern. "You're telling me you got attacked?! I…did you get their license plate? We need to find out who…" her father started ranting at a breakneck pace, and she knew if she didn't stop him, he'd probably keep going until he had some sort of aneurism. As per their tradition, she once again raised her hand, stopping his words in their tracks. The both of them knew that they could go off the rails in telling each other about their days, so they'd both agreed that the storyteller would always be able to control the discussion, if just to prevent conversational mayhem. Rachel was very thankful for that, even if LeRoy was still understandably fuming over her being attacked.

"It was too dark, and I was too scared. If you're worried about getting back at them, I'm certain that Santana sliced one of their Achilles tendons, so they didn't leave without facing some consequences. I'm certain that if need be, you could have the police call hospitals in that region to see if anyone was admitted with such an injury, whereupon either myself or Santana could identify them." She stated, which seemed to ease his tension slightly. "Their friends came around an hour or so later, and Santana helped us escape into the woods where we'd be safer. She'd spent days out in the wilderness before without food, water or shelter, so I knew I could trust her decisions to some degree."

That remark seemed to bring her daddy out of his rage a little bit, as his face contorted into confusion. "His father had never seemed to be that extreme about his camping trips…he never mentioned anything like that." LeRoy said thoughtfully, tapping his finger on the table as he always did when he was busy thinking.

"It was Sue Sylvester that did so, not her father. Anyway, most of the rest of the weekend was nice. She taught me a fair bit about how to survive in the wild, including how to use hatchets, which I've found to have a fair bit of utility. And whenever I got scared or worried or homesick, she'd help me and cheer me up. Without her, I probably would have panicked at some point and would be currently lost in the wilderness." Rachel explained, drawing a hesitant nod from her father, who only appeared more confused at her clarification.

"You mean to tell me that the girl who used to torment you turned over a new leaf? I'm sorry…I find it hard to believe." LeRoy stated apologetically, taking a bite of his French toast, washing it down with some orange juice. Rachel just continued to mill away at her own entirely delicious breakfast. "But I'm sure you have an explanation for that, knowing how intense you get about needing to understand things."

Rachel nodded furiously, popping another peach chunk in her mouth, relishing in its flavor. She'd missed fruit. "I was initially very wary. At first, after the wreck, I thought she was about to kill me when I saw the knife in the front seat with her. But…I can't say much, as I won't betray her trust…she seemed to decide that she wanted friends, and that I'd be a good person to start with." She stated with a wistful smile, recalling how sweet and open the girl had been with her throughout the trip. As unforgettable of an experience it had been due to the violence and how scary it had been, it was also equally unforgettable due to the bond they'd established. "She helped when I was scared of bears, when I was scared of thunderstorms…and she…"

LeRoy reached across the table and took hold of her hand, freeing her from the immediate rush of memories around the second attack. She was thankful for the affection, but it didn't clear her mind from the memory of Santana shaking on the ground, covered in blood. "Daddy, she fought a wolf for me. She made me escape first, and she killed it. It looked old, but it was really big and…it almost killed her. I was lucky to have been able to stop the bleeding and get her into town in time. I've never been so terrified." She whispered, sniffing back her tears as she remembered how long it had taken to get the bandaging right, to close the girl's wounds. Once again, she was broken from her short reverie by her father, who pulled her off the kitchen stool and into a fierce hug, one that she eagerly returned. Even though the ordeal was behind her, it was still so fresh in her mind. Every time she thought back to it, it was as if it was happening again right in front of her.

After a few minutes of silent comfort, her father stepped away, teary-eyed. "You…you're never allowed to go camping again. At least…not without that girl with you. And perhaps a number of highly trained ex-military bodyguards." He stated, his voice shaky with emotion. She just hugged him back harder, letting him know that she was okay. That she was home, and that while the idea of being accompanied by some highly trained bodyguards out in the forest was a bit off-putting, she'd endure it if it meant that she'd be able to have a calm, relaxing camping adventure with Santana in the future.

"Okay, Daddy. I promise." Rachel answered, deciding not to tell him that she would ask her dad to book her a few appointments with her therapist; it simply wasn't fair to call Santana at night, and she needed to ensure she'd get past that trauma. "Anyway, I'd best get ready for school. I'm sure that McKinley will be abuzz with rumours, and I want to make sure I'm prepared for any sort of attention that's directed at me." She finished, leaning up on her tippy-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek before she rushed back to her room, already four minutes later than she'd usually be at that time of the morning. And on top of that, she had some gifts to procure.

It would be a busy day indeed.

* * *

Santana walked into McKinley that morning with her head held high; sure, she was using crutches, which normally were a sign of vulnerability, but the rest of her attire dismissed that notion. Quinn had apparently done well the previous night, spreading word to the school's gossip hounds, because everyone in the halls stopped and stared at her in shock and awe. The fact that she'd washed her torn Cheerios' top that morning so she could wear it again was a nice touch, if she said so herself. The bloodstains hadn't come out at all, same for her shorts, which she also had washed and decided to wear that day. It made for a sight, she knew, and Santana figured it would go a long way to ensure that her badass title ascended to mythical levels. Even under the jacket she wore, the evidence of the wolf attack was visible. She supposed it didn't hurt that she'd tweeted pictures of both hatchets and the hunting knife, still all caked with blood and fur, including the caption ' _did some hunting this wknd #fuckmichigan_ '. It all seemed enough to hopefully get the school buzzing.

Her only worry was that Rachel wouldn't be okay with it when she met up with her. Santana had called the girl that morning about her plans, and the diva had given her the green light, but she couldn't help but be worried after the previous night's episode. The last thing she wanted was to emotionally scar the girl any more than she already was, it was just that she really wanted to take advantage of the situation so that she could boost both of their reps. Santana knew that the school hierarchy operated mostly through cliques and fear, and she planned on using that. The Unholy Trinity hadn't really lost any cool points after leaving the Cheerios, mostly because they stood up to Sue and came out unscathed. Still, it didn't hurt having extra insurance, seeing as they were bringing another girl into the fold, one that had been at the bottom of the school's hierarchy for as long as she'd been aware.

She'd made similar calls to Quinn and Britt to make sure they knew what was happening, but both still looked just as shocked as everyone else when she approached their lockers. "Hey bitches." Santana called out with a wide, carefree smile. Sure, her meds didn't kill off all that much of the pain, but they did enough so that she wasn't in agony; that left her feeling good enough to just be happy about going through the final two or so weeks of school.

Britt was quick to hug her, but careful to avoid any trouble areas as best she could manage. Quinn just stood by Santana, her HBIC glare on full power; she was pretty confident that Quinn would be a crazy-protective mega-bitch all day, and it was kind of something she looked forward to seeing again. Hey, sometimes Vintage Ice-Queen Quinn Fabray was good for some fun. After all, it didn't hurt to have the school pissing itself around them all while she was a little incapacitated. It was a nice little measure of defense that she'd thank the blonde for later on.

They all grabbed their books for their next class and then moved onto their next destination, the crowd of students parting for them as they leisurely made their way to Rachel's locker, where the diva was worriedly looking over a large binder of notes. If there was one regrettable thing about school for Santana, it was that her badass reputation more or less ensured that she couldn't be public with her affection unless it was with Britt. And while that was okay and all, she kind of wanted to give Berry a hug and make sure she was okay.

"Hey Britt-Britt? Can you go give Rach a big hug for us? I'm pretty sure she could use one right now." She whispered to the tall blonde, who cheerfully skipped away from her and Quinn and wrapped an immediately surprised Rachel in a big hug, swinging the diva from side to side. It was a little amusing to see a wide-eyed Rachel with her feet off the ground, still clutching her binder as Brittany gave the brunette one of her more enthusiastic hugs. The blonde lowered Rachel back to the ground just as she and Quinn arrived at the locker, which seemed to give the diva some relief, though she seemed fairly content despite the surprise. "Hey, how'd your morning go, Rach?"

Rachel seemed to freeze up a little, before a shy smile spread across her lips. "It was quite wonderful, though I was banned from exercising until my daddy's able to look at all my injuries himself." Rachel noted with a bit of indignation, giving a little huff after she spoke.

"Hey, nothing wrong with easing back into your routines…I mean, you couldn't follow your morning routine last weekend, and it was alright then, right?" Santana asked, trying to play a little devil's advocate, though Berry seemed a little unimpressed with her statement, sending her a pointed look. "Hey, I'm sure you're totes able to do shit, but your dads are just shaken up. I'm sure you'll have your elliptical back tomorrow."

Rachel gave a thoughtful pout and nodded her head. "That is true. I've already composed a speech to my dad, telling him about the importance of exercise in maintaining a strong, healthy body. That the sooner I exercise, the sooner I'm back to my old shape, and the sooner they can put the ordeal behind them." The diva stated, and Santana could feel Quinn's eyes rolling from where she stood. "I've noticed that the rest of the school is paying particularly close attention to you…and Quinn, I fear for anyone who gets on your bad side today."

"It's nice to know I can still make people tremble." The blonde HBIC spoke with a frosty sort of cheer to her voice, Santana catching the girl's somewhat sadistic smile out of the corner of her eye. She knew Quinn wasn't actually crazy malicious or anything, and that she was simply a great actress in the roles she'd developed; Santana was just happy to have the blonde back by her side. It was pretty great.

"If I'm entirely honest, when you smile like that, Quinn, I get the instinctual response to find somewhere to hide. Don't sell yourself short." Rachel stated, and Santana couldn't help but laugh, knowing Quinn would take the compliment well. Because sure, she knew Quinn didn't usually take much pleasure in wielding her power, but she did take pride in how good she'd gotten at it. "Anyway, I must be off to class, so I hope you all have pleasant mornings." The diva continued, a bright smile spreading across her face, one that Santana just couldn't deny was hella alluring.

She decided that with all of her badassery and Quinntense protection, she could get away with stepping things up a little bit on the Rachel front, making a brief kissing gesture to the diva before heading off to her own classes. She almost looked back to see the brunette's response, but decided against it for two reasons; she didn't want to see any sign of rejection, and she wanted Berry to know that she wasn't the least bit worried showing her some Santana-grade affection at school.

* * *

Much of the rest of the day passed uneventfully, Santana figured. She had maintained the attention of her fellow students, Quinn had scared two jocks into leaving early due to bladder and groin issues after trying to slushie Santana and Rachel, Brittany had been hugging the three of them constantly, and Rachel had survived unscathed through the day. In fact, some had started parting the halls for her, even if it was just a little bit.

And Jacob Ben Israel had been stalking her all day long, only to constantly be rebuffed by her threatening to hit him with a crutch. Still, the kid gutted it out all day long, taking verbal abuse from both her and Quinn, physical threats by her and Quinn, and he'd apparently skipped his last class to wait outside the choir room for her. So when he approached her for the ninth time that day, she held up her hand to keep him from flapping his idiotic little mouth. She'd left her last class early to take her meds, and seeing as she'd already handed in the final assignment for it, Santana didn't think it'd be a big deal to skip the rest.

"Jewfro, you're relentless, and you're like a tick that's just making me feel ill, so get to the point and don't waste my time. You have five minutes." She stated firmly, leaning up against some lockers by the choir room doors, sending him a scathing glare that had the creepy boy visibly on edge.

"My source reports that you and my future wife, Rachel Berry, were trapped out in the Michigan wilderness all weekend, is that true?" the boy stammered out quickly, shrinking back as she leaned forward slightly with her fists clenched at her side.

She let a moment or two pass, just to let the fear sink in, before answering. "I'mma be nice and ignore what you said about Berry, because I've had enough blood on my hands lately. But yeah, from Friday night to Monday night." She answered with a scowl, not happy at all about how he talked about the diva; she'd had a grudge against him ever since he blackmailed poor, naïve Rachel into giving him a pair of her underwear. It was kind of fucking sick.

"You m…mention blood. Your clothing makes you look like you'd been attacked, and you posted pictures of weapons, c…can I get a comment on that?" Jewfro asked, which was silly, because Quinn had mentioned that she'd fought and killed a wolf. She didn't think she'd have to reiterate the tale.

Santana let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head at the prospect of talking about it all. Still, it gave her a way to set the story straight. "Me and Berry ran into some trouble, but as you can see, we're still standing. The wolf whose throat I slit was one of them…I taught Berry how to toss a hatchet, so I didn't do it alone, even if I did the dirty work. And then we ran into a shotgun-wielding hillbilly and his two beasts of dogs…Berry went all Lara Croft the things and shouted down the asshole." She replied with a casual shrug. "We're badasses, she's just more modest than me. That good enough for you, Jewfro?"

Having felt she made her point, she positioned herself back on her crutches and started moving around the clown, but he stuck his microphone out in front of her before blocking the doors. "Wait! You and Rachel were out there for a long time, people could suspect that you both got inti…" Jacob started with an absolutely disgustingly slimy grin that she would have slapped off if she could have. Instead, she slammed her head forward, head-butting the slime ball and causing him to stumble out of the way.

"You don't want to finish that question…and you definitely don't want to ask Berry that question, because it's clearly not in your best interests, am I clear?" she grit out, sure that her glare was absolutely aflame with the rage that practically had her vibrating. It wasn't as if the question would have been bad coming from Q or Britt, but that dude basically stalked Rachel, and she didn't want him thinking anything. "Your time's up, asshole."

With that, she stormed into the empty room, taking a seat in the front row. Normally, Santana sat higher on the risers, but she knew well that stairs and crutches didn't go well together. Feeling instantly bored, she fished into her backpack, pulling out her spare glee folder; it wasn't like she was crazy prepared or anything like Berry, but solos for her were rare. Sometimes, Schue let people that weren't the main players take the floor, and she wanted to have things ready if the opportunity ever came up. And she hid that folder, because she liked the idea of people thinking it was effortless for her, instead of knowing that she'd often spend time working on her performances at home after she'd finished her homework. Glee was her favourite part of the day, and she was competitive. She didn't think it was a massive stretch that she'd be dedicated to it, even if she pretended not to be.

As soon as the door clicked open, that folder was back in her bag, but she had an idea of what she'd work on throughout the week; Santana knew her neck was too roughed up at the moment to take part in singing or anything, but she hoped that maybe by the last glee session of the year that she'd be recovered enough to do a solo in front of the whole club. Normally, she needed help; duets were always a lot easier for her to handle, because as much as she loved the spotlight, singers like Rachel and Mercedes kind of intimidated her. Well, more Rachel than Mercedes, but the girl had pipes, even if she was raw and pretty mediocre in the other aspects of performing.

But ultimately, as she'd explained to Rachel, she just didn't want to be second best. But at the same time, she also kind of really liked singing and dancing, and wanted to sing a song to her girls. Well, not that they were 'hers' in any sort of intimate sense outside of friendship or anything. Well, not that she wouldn't possibly like that, at least with one of the three, but she knew most girls were straight. Lima was strike-out city when it came to romance, and it just wasn't likely in the cards. Sure, she liked being affectionate with Rachel, but she didn't see it going anywhere past the realm of friendship, even if she did have a bit of a crush on the diva.

Which might have been the reason why she was smiling like she hadn't seen the girl in weeks when Rachel walked into the room, even though she'd seen her maybe an hour and forty minutes ago at most. Whatever; Santana knew that she tended to want things pretty badly sometimes, and that usually scared her, especially when she was in denial about her sexuality. But it wasn't so complicated anymore; at least, it didn't need to be, now that Rachel knew. Knowing that one more person in the world understood her secret was kind of huge. It made Santana feel like she'd have more people on her side if things went bad, and that was important, because she hated being alone.

"You're here early." The diva stated, looking both pleased and confused, plopping down in the seat beside her.

"Needed to take my meds, so my teacher gave me the rest of the period off. I just got here." She stated; a white lie of sorts, but she didn't want a scolding of how skipping was poor form, or something along those lines.

Rachel gave her a sad smile and Santana felt her hand being squeezed, not having even noticed the diva reaching out for it. "Really…you should take the rest of the week off. You need to rest, San." Rachel spoke softly, using her thumb to gently caress the back of Santana's hand. Her eyes couldn't stop staring at their hands together, mostly because she knew that if she looked anywhere else, she'd probably end up staring into the diva's eyes, and that would likely be a bad idea with the meds kicking in and making her a little freer and candid.

"I can't protect you if I'm at home lying in bed. I promised you." Santana not leaning a little toward Rachel, unable to stifle a happy sigh when the brunette scooted her chair closer and angled her body into Santana's, their shoulders resting against each other. "And glee's the best part of my day…I can rest this summer, estrella." Santana knew that summer was fast approaching, and with a number of her major assignments having been done in advance, she mostly just had final exams to prepare for. Nothing entirely strenuous. She didn't want Berry to worry that she was putting her health at risk just attending classes.

Santana hadn't meant to slip out the nickname quite yet, generally preferring to keep it for when they weren't at school, but the combined blush and shy smile on Rachel's face made her wonder if perhaps it wouldn't be a good idea to use it more freely. Rachel was her friend, after all, and she liked making her friends happy.

"I just worry…I'm a worrier, I'm overbearing, and kind of high maintenance. I want you to be healed up right now, but you can't be, so I just want it to happen as fast as possible, because I don't like seeing you in pain." The diva stated with sad confidence, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Rachel, I'm okay, I…" she started, but when Kurt and Mercedes marched into the room, she clammed up a little, bringing her free hand over to cover their interwoven heads before pulling away entirely. "I promise, estrella." She whispered, offering the girl an apologetic smile. Santana figured that there was already enough gossip that they'd have to endure in glee. Showing how close they'd gotten would be better left for another day. Rachel seemed to understand, by the encouraging expression she flashed her, before looking over to Kurt and Mercedes, offering them a small wave.

As the club filtered in, the buzzing white noise of hushed gossip built, almost to an unbearable level. She'd expected them to bombard them with questions, but they'd all been keeping their shit to themselves. If it was any consolation, Rachel seemed entirely surprised too, though not as surprised as when Finn lumbered over to her, stopping well within Rachel's personal space.

"Hey Rach!" The boy exclaimed cheerfully, wearing that dopey grin that some girls inexplicably fell for. To Santana, it just made him look like a gassy infant, but she was a lesbian, and she supposed that her tastes varied a lot from other girls. Though his boobs were the least appealing set she'd ever seen. Seriously. Custard nipples.

Santana suppressed a shudder from the thought and paid close attention to the oaf who was towering over the diva. She wasn't a fan of how he seemed to subconsciously use his size against her so often. Especially when he wanted something, or when he was upset.

"Hello, Finn. Is there something you needed?" Rachel asked with a level of politeness that constantly surprised Santana, because Finn constantly did rude shit to the diva, like ignoring her when she talked, ogling Quinn while dating the brunette. Or, more recently, trying to kiss Rachel after she rejected him, and after she'd yelled 'No!' at him. Honestly, he'd looked like he was trying to swallow her or something, and it kind of disgusted her, so she'd thrown every insult in both of her English and Spanish vocabularies at him. Thankfully, the giant had been humiliated and went back to the waiting room to sulk, but the disappointment in Rachel's face cut through her something fierce. Santana knew Rachel still liked Finn as a friend, but she wasn't about to sit by as the boy forced himself on her newest friend.

"Oh, I was just gonna bring you over to our usual seats." Finn stated confidently, still holding that idiotic grin. It was ridiculous how he usually treated her like some toy or object he owned, instead of someone who could make her own decisions. Seriously, Santana didn't understand what others saw in him. Her taking the boy's virginity had been a mercy to all the other McKinley girls, ensuring he likely wouldn't be nearly as selfish the other times he did the deed with whatever unfortunate partner he could find.

Rachel seemed to tense a bit at his words, and her polite, cheerful expression morphed into one that made the diva seem like she was a split second away from tossing down a smoke bomb and darting away to safety. "Finn, I'm content to sit here, so if you'll just go find a seat, Mister Schuester would…"

"But we always sit together. I mean, unless you're mad at me for some reason, but I know you were tired and everything on Monday, and you don't like kissing when you are, and I know you still love me, so just come sit with me." He rambled out, his reasoning so silly it would be deemed too unrealistic and foolish for a children's picture book. Seriously, again, Santana had no idea what anyone saw in him. Sometimes he meant well and was nice at times, sure, but that described most people. She watched his face turn a little redder, his grin dropping into a confused frown as Rachel shook her head. "But you're sitting beside Santana, Rach. She hates you, remember?"

Santana couldn't help but scoff openly at that, earning a glare from the man-child in the process that was about as intimidating as a toddler. _Honestly, how patronizing can he be?_ Rachel was having what Santana liked to call a moment of barely restrained frustration, something she'd witnessed many times on Friday night and also while death marching the girl on Sunday. It meant that she had a short open window to speak before Rachel went off on a rant. "Finn, just go to your seat before you do or say something you'll regret."

Of course, she'd meant it in the frame of his friendship with Rachel, but he seemed to take it differently, his face darkening in response to her words. "Are you threatening me?" he grit out, with a single, hard laugh, his eyes scanning her wounded body.

"I'm being nice for Berry's sake, because you're being an idiot, and you need to step back before you make Rachel more upset." She spoke lowly, challenging him with her own glare, that seemed to bring out a level of hesitancy, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the diva, who was paying very close attention to them both.

"Right, because a bitch like you would know better than her boyfriend how to make her happy." Finn stated pointedly, and while he seemed to somehow lack any knowledge of what had occurred that weekend, he was missing her point entirely.

"I'm not sure how to make her happy like that, maybe, but I know when she's upset, and I know the warning signs she sends off when she's losing her cool. If you paid attention to her at all, you'd see she's really uncomfortable right now, so you should step back and go to your seat." Santana stated, clarifying her point in hopes Finn would let it through his thick skull. She really wished that Schue was there to just force the boy to move on, but he was probably macking on Ms. Pillsbury, and the rest of glee was watching on in rapt silence.

Finn started clenching and relaxing his fists at his side, and Santana saw Quinn start to stand up before Britt held her in place. Santana was thankful, because she was still confident that she could get the boy to move on. She was just getting less confident that she could do it without being so incendiary that he'd catch fire. "If she's uncomfortable about anyone here, it's you, Santana! You tortured her for years, and then she was stuck dealing with you all weekend long, so why don't you find another seat and leave her alone?"

She took a moment to really let the oaf's words sink in, unable to contain her disbelief at how idiotic Finn was being. "She was uncomfortable when you tried to kiss her Monday night, which happened after she shut you down. She was uncomfortable when Quinn and Britt visited me. She was uncomfortable this morning with some of the stares she was getting. Just like she's not comfortable with you standing so close, saying you're her boyfriend when you haven't even been dating. Just because you kissed her at nationals on a stage doesn't change the fact that she keeps telling you no, and you keep ignoring her, so go find somewhere to sit afores I can't keep up this polite front anymore, because it's fading quick." She was only being honest; her body was seething with a rage that was only contained by the fact that she knew her friends would be upset and worried if she went and beat Finn with one of her crutches.

"And just because you spent a weekend alone with her doesn't change the fact that she doesn't like you. No one does, so why don't you just…" Finn started, before shutting up as Rachel shot up to her feet, that goofy smile returning to his face immediately.

"Finn…you will not talk that way about Santana, do you understand?" Rachel growled out. Literally, the diva looked and sounded like some demonic queen, all fire-eyed with a menacing scowl that she'd never seen adorning the brunette's features. Admittedly, it was kind of hot, and it was totally cool that Berry stuck up for her.

"Rach, she's a bitch, she hates you. Let's just go…" Finn Started again, but Rachel surprisingly pushed him out of her little personal bubble of space and pointed out her finger at him, warning him not to come closer.

"Finn, if Santana hated me, she would have let the men we encountered hurt me, perhaps take me away. If she hated me, she would have left me to survive on my own instead of dragging me to safety despite me being a crying mess. She wouldn't have spent half an hour in torrential rain setting up our tent while I was sheltered from the storm. She wouldn't have given me first aid after the car crash. She wouldn't have made me breakfast, told me jokes, or stayed up all night just to give me peace of mind that animals wouldn't attack us. And when a wolf DID attack us, she made sure I was safe and out of harm's way immediately. Someone who hated me wouldn't constantly put me before her own needs, Finn. Before her own life…" Rachel ranted angrily, her arms flailing angrily as she gave the club something of a Coles Notes version of what happened. Of course, Rachel omitted the fact that as someone with knowledge and training out in the wild, she more or less had a responsibility to care for the diva. Not that she didn't want to anyway, but it was like doctors when people have heart-attacks in the street. They have to help, it's not something they could skip out on. "And over that weekend, I learned enough about her to proudly name her as my friend, and I'm excited about the prospect of having more friends. It's why I sat by her today. And she's right, you have made me uncomfortable, so I would prefer you return to your seat."

Finn looked entirely taken aback by the rant, the faint sound of hushed voices filling the silence between the trio. Honestly, Santana was proud of the little diva, and a little bit thrilled that Rachel stood up for her like that, even if she went a bit overboard on the details. After all, she wanted people to know how badass she was, not how she had a soft spot and looked out for the diva all weekend. She didn't spare the man-child another glance, her eyes unwilling to move from Berry, who was still standing and giving Finn a pointed look. Santana could see that the diva was shaking, but her rage had faded, and now she just looked like her body was in conflict over whether to do a diva storm-out, or to break down. Finn, for his part, seemed to be incapable of moving while his tiny little brain worked away on what he'd hopefully listened to.

Santana met Brittany's eyes and made a slight gesture toward Rachel, the tall blonde immediately understanding as she got to her feet. "Rachel, will you help me pick a song for Lord Tubbington's fourteenth birthday party?" Brittany asked, walking toward the trio, who were all still very much locked in place, though Rachel seemed to at least be aware of the blonde. "We're all just waiting for Mr. Schue anyway, and it shouldn't take long to see what Duran Duran song will make him happiest."

At that, Berry's mouth opened and closed a few times, before nodding ever so slightly, her gaze still locked on Finn. "Yes…I suppose that…I can make time to help your cat if it's for his birthday."

Brittany clapped happily for a few moments before dragging Rachel out of the choir room, which was signal enough for Santana to get to her feet, because if Finn couldn't take a hint, she'd turn that hint into a flat-out order. For her part, Quinn seemed to be on the same page; if Finn had been paying attention to his periphery, he probably would have scampered off with his tail between his legs, considering how icy Quinn's glare was. "Now here's how it's gonna be, Lumps. I'mma speak real slow so you can understand. Rachel doesn't want to date you. So sit your flabby ass down and keep your distance." She grit out, knowing her meds were kicking in, so even if he tried anything, she wouldn't feel much of it. Santana would totes risk aggravating her sprain to shove her shoe up the dopey idiot's ass if he kept acting like he was that day.

"Whatever game you're playing, you need to stop. I won't let you hurt Rachel, Satan." Finn shot back, puffing up like the Stay Puft man from Ghostbusters, appearing just as intimidating.

Santana shook her head in disbelief that he was exactly as she'd pegged him out in the woods. "Did you even listen to her?! Every time she talks, you just shut your fucking brain down! And she knows that, so can you blame her for ditching your sorry ass and moving onto someone better?"

Now, Finn was an idiot, but he wasn't blind; the way he looked at her right then, the maliciousness of his grin, it all told her that her not-so-well-kept secret was about to be put out into the spotlight. "You can dream, Satan, but she's not into girls. We all know you love Brittany, but she doesn't love you back…and you think one weekend will make Rachel go gay for you?" Finn spoke slowly, a small grin forming on his face as she stared him down. "You might not be a coward anymore, but you're still alone. You tear everyone down because you can't admit how you feel, and…"

She honestly couldn't listen to another word out of his stinking, putrid mouth, and it was literally all she could do to keep from physically attacking him. First off, she knew Rachel would be disappointed, and secondly, she knew that if she got suspended, it would likely spread into the following year. Missing the first day of her senior year wasn't an option, neither was missing the last day, or any more days of glee. His words stung, they were harsh, but they were out there. And she had Quinn sizing Finn up like she was some lioness looking at a prized, vulnerable kill.

"So I like girls. Whatever…Britt's straight, and this is Lima. Not a lot a lady lovin' going round, and I'm good with that. Just like I'm good with Berry finding a sexy piece of man meat that she deserves. This isn't about me, you fuckwit, it's about her, so get it through your thick skull that she doesn't love you, she doesn't want you…and if it makes you feel fucking satisfied, she doesn't want me either." She noted with feigned disbelief, scoffing at how much he was assuming. Sure, she liked the diva a lot, but even she understood that Berry had shown no concrete signs of swinging in her direction. "I'm sure my heart's just breaking that I've got three of the finest badass lady friends in all of Ohio, and none want to jump my bones. Hey Q, you're a bit taller than me. Can you hang some rope from the support beam on my room's ceiling tonight? I don't think I'll be able to do it myself, and I obviously can't stand living in this world any longer, for Finn Hudson has crushed my spirit." She finished, her words dripping with sarcasm as she gave Finn a withering glare that finally had the boy cautiously moving backward, jumping in shock as his body collided against Quinn's.

Santana wasn't really sure what the fuck was going on in glee, because even Mercedes and Kurt were shell-shocked. Zizes was tossing back popcorn that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Puck was giving her an odd look, both Changs were whispering to themselves, and Artie seemed entirely satisfied with himself, and perhaps amused at the situation. She'd sort him out later, she figured.

One look at Quinn and Finn literally ran off, out of the choir room and into the halls, which seemed to relax some of the tension. Enough to get the room abuzz again.

"So you're like…into chicks too?" Puck called out from his spot on the risers. She took a moment to gain the will to answer, knowing the cat was out of the bag; she'd just have to be a badass and handle it.

Santana offered him an apologetic shrug. "Lesbian." It was one word that she'd rarely ever spoke, as it had held a lot of power over her life. She watched on, feeling a fair bit nervous as Puck pondered it over for a moment, his mouth curling into a small frown.

"I was your beard." He stated, a certain detachment to his voice initially before he started nodding his head a little. "Happy to oblige."

She smiled a little at the words, not having expected them from him, seeing as he'd gained a lot of rep from the rumours of their sexual activities. She quickly scanned the rest of the room, noticing everyone was talking with each other except for Quinn, who was staring expressionlessly at her. Deciding to make a call, she looked at the clock and shrugged. "Schue's probably not gonna show soon, so I'm not about to waste my time here waiting." She stated, turning to face the risers. "I'd appreciate if you keep what you heard between us, is that clear?" she asked, her eyes challenging anyone to disagree. Thankfully, pretty much everyone paying attention seemed to be pretty cool. Zizes was too busy snacking to do much else, but the girl rarely spoke, so she didn't consider her an issue.

After a moment of mixed affirmations, she turned her gaze to Quinn and gestured toward one of the choir room doors. "Can you gimme a lift, Q?"

Santana was relieved when her blonde friend nodded, falling in beside her as they made their way out of the room, quickly navigating out toward the parking lot. She was tired of their daily prison, and kind of just wanted to go curl up on her bed and maybe feel sorry for herself, think, let jealousy take over, or perhaps all three at once. It'd been a hell of a day.


	2. Chapter 2

The whole drive to Santana's was a bit of a blur for Quinn, who was still trying desperately to regain her composure after the relatively insane glee session. In all honesty, it had been a while since she'd been so angry, and she'd fully expected Santana to let her tear into Finn, but every time Quinn and the raven-haired girl made eye contact, she saw that same expression Santana would get when disciplining the younger Cheerios. Which, more or less, meant 'let me handle it'. So Quinn did, though she'd been ready and willing; Finn had been stupid in the past, but he'd never been so obscenely foolish as during that glee meeting, both ignoring Rachel's requests and outing Santana. It was kind of baffling, and she really just wanted to grab him and drag him away for a private castration, but it was Santana's fight, and the girl surprisingly didn't explode on him. Which, really, was kind of amazing, given her general hatred for the boy, and the fact that he spilled one of the girl's biggest secrets, well-kept or not.

Quinn had fully expected there to be punches thrown, Spanish insults screamed as half of glee held Santana back, keeping her friend from mutilating Finn, but none of that happened, and it was just utterly baffling. Not that she liked when Santana went over the edge, because it always scared her a little, but it was how the girl operated sometimes. Heck, especially when the people she cared about were threatened, and Quinn knew that her friend truly cared for Rachel. The tiny brunette's love of pacifism was the only thing that she could think of that could possibly hold Santana back, because Quinn knew that as much as Santana was protective of her people, she also loathed disappointing them. It was the only reason she could come up with for why Santana didn't maul him, and instead put herself second throughout the argument. It at least kept her from rising to Finn's bait and causing a bloodbath, which Quinn had been ready for either way.

In short, she kind of felt confused, and certainly misused, just having stood behind Finn in wait for any misstep that she could have capitalized on, but the opportunity never came. It wasn't often that Santana was ever in a situation where she'd need protection, and Quinn had wanted to show that she had her friend's back as well. It was just unfortunate, in a way, that it ended up without incident. _At least she's out now, and most of glee took it well, but...the rest of the school won't likely be as kind..._ Quinn mused, sighing as they pulled into Santana's driveway, taking pleasure in the knowledge that she'd at least scared Finn a little, and that Santana had gained some support.

They made their way inside, Quinn following Santana over to her temporary room, to their usual spots at the end of the bed. It was tradition that after a hard day, they'd spend a few hours watching TV together; or at least, it used to be a tradition until early on in junior year. Quinn realized that it was the first time in nearly a year since they'd been in those familiar positions.

It was hard to concentrate on anything, what with all the thoughts flying through her mind; Quinn wanted to ask Santana about so many things, but none seemed appropriate given that she knew Santana was trying to cool down. Despite how calm her friend had been in glee, Quinn knew Santana was, on a number of occasions, incredibly close to just strangling Finn, and that likely meant a few hours of Buffy or some crime drama. She wasn't surprised when Santana tossed in some Rizzoli and Isles. They'd long since worked their way through the Law & Order shows, NCIS, among others, and last summer, Quinn had recommended it. Despite their mini-falling out and somewhat difficult reconciliation, she knew that her word was gold to Santana, that she had her friend's trust. Even something as small as a TV show recommendation was a reminder of that, and Quinn couldn't help but smile as the show started playing.

Santana had made it a few episodes before ordering pizza, her half being a deluxe, while Quinn insisted on her usual; ever since her pregnancy, the only craving that had stuck was her love of bacon, so with the blonde's freedom from the Cheerios' training regimen, she felt safe in ordering her half of the pizza with pineapple and a triple dose of bacon.

It wasn't unusual that Santana had rolled her eyes at Quinn's selection of toppings, but the blonde did spot something unusual during their little marathon. Throughout most shows, Santana had her favourite types of characters, and also those who she tended to get irritated by. It was partially a reason why Quinn recommended Rizzoli and Isles, knowing that Santana would adore Rizzoli, and would be constantly frustrated by Isles' tendency to give vague answers and random, unrelated factoids.

Yet there Santana was, her cheeks warm with amusement as she watched Doctor Maura Isles try to rope Rizzoli into wearing some absolutely embarrassing running gear. Quinn watched as Santana laughed quietly at the woman's remarks, and pouted slightly when Maura broke out into reluctant tears. It was kind of cute, she had to admit, that her friend was a little starry-eyed at the lady on the screen, but it was also very abnormal. Which, of course, set Quinn's brain into motion, using Occam's Razor to discern one distinct possibility.

It was almost comical how obvious it was upon a little reflection, but if she were to take Rachel's core personality, it matched up pretty similarly with Isles; both were passionate know-it-alls that excelled at what they did and seemed to operate in an entirely different way than everyone else. Both were good, caring friends who found it hard to say no to people in trouble, but who sometimes had a difficult time looking past their own wants and needs and into a different perspective. And both were kind of ridiculous at the strangest times. Quinn was sure that if Rachel had developed a passion in her childhood to be a doctor or a medical examiner, she would have likely ended up similar to the character on the show. Which, in a way, explained why Santana was so surprisingly fond of that character.

The only tricky thing was navigating that conversational terrain with Santana; Quinn knew that Rachel had a 'straight girl crush' on the raven-haired girl, whatever that meant, but she didn't quite know where Santana's affections stopped. It was difficult to tell sometimes, especially considering that she was so affectionate and protective in general, and that the girl was maybe a little desperate for a different kind of love than she or Britt could have given her. Quinn knew that Santana had held a crush on her once, and that her friend had moved onto Britt, which sadly hadn't worked out. _And it's not like she's upset about it...maybe a little frustrated, but I know she doesn't hold it against us, and that she doesn't blame herself...it's just maybe that she's a bit like Berry in that sometimes she just wants things too much._

Quinn recalled Santana's words in glee, saying she was happy having the three of them as friends, and knew that was true. The girl valued her friends and was exceedingly loyal, so it wasn't even a question of whether San was happy with them by her side. The real question was whether Santana wanted Berry to fill another role in her life.

"Hey San?" She asked, deciding to test the waters a bit. The girl beside her hummed in acknowledgement, her eyes not leaving the screen, too busy watching both main characters run in some marathon. "Do you think Rizzoli and Isles would ever get together?"

That seemed to grab Santana's attention, the girl turning her head enough so that she could still watch the show from the corner of her eye, but could also see Quinn. "Like, dating together?" her friend asked, earning a small nod from Quinn. Santana scoffed and turned her full focus back to the screen. "They're just awesome best friends, and apparently straight, so...no, not really."

"What if they did, though?" Quinn asked, pressing the issue, which seemed to get the gears in Santana's mind whirring, by the furrowing of her friend's brows. It was a bit of a risky play, but she wanted to know how she felt, because maybe Santana didn't know she was crushing on Berry yet.

"Well...I guess...they'd probably be good together. The people they tend to date seem a little too much like themselves, and those usually fail, so they'd probably balance out each other's special brand of crazy. And I bet Isles would be ridiculous in the sack, so if they were into each other, I don't see why they wouldn't work out. But like I said, they're supposedly straight, so it doesn't matter." Santana stated, her reasoning understandable enough, though Quinn could have done without the prediction on Maura's sexual proficiency. "Why do you ask, anyway?"

Quinn shot a glance back at Santana, who didn't look suspicious of her at all, just calmly expectant. It was nice to have that back again after months of Santana giving small hints that she was wary of her still. "I was just thinking, I guess." She answered, earning a cocked eyebrow from Santana, who promptly paused the show and rolled on her side so she could face Quinn.

"And I take it you weren't thinking about the show." Santana noted, her tone a little wearier than the blonde had expected.

"You really had Rachel's back down there. Like, I'm still kind of shocked about how it all went down, and what Finn did." Quinn admitted, offering her a sad smile as Santana's gaze lowered ever so slightly. "I'm proud of you for not killing him, San. I am, because I know how private you can be, and he didn't have the right to do that...but you can't tell me that you held back just for yourself. You did it for Rachel too."

Santana continued her roll and flopped onto her back, closing her eyes as her hair hung over the edge of the bed. "Rachel's done with Finn. Better to rip the band-aid off than to slowly peel it off. I started our talk because of him not listening to Rachel...there wasn't any reason to take his bait."

"It's just that you never denied liking Rachel when he accused you of it." Quinn added, drawing a short, strained laugh from her friend that more or less answered her question of whether San was into Berry.

"Finn always tries to make things into competitions. Whenever he was with you, and Berry was looking at someone new, he'd go behind your back and compete for Rachel. It was the same when he was with her, and you were getting into Sam. You two were his trophies until he had you, and then you were consolation prizes." Santana explained, not that Quinn needed to hear that, what with the girl having given her the same rant after Finn had dumped her after the funeral. "He knows, deep down, that Rachel's not with him anymore, and he's looking for competition. And there I am, Rachel's brand new friend, so he made me a target. He refuses to believe he doesn't have a chance, and always thinks there's someone else to defeat, as if Rachel can't decide for herself."

"You didn't answer the question, San." Quinn noted softly, knowing Santana was correct in what she said, but it was clear that the girl was avoiding the question.

Santana was quiet for a few long, agonizing moments, and maybe Quinn knew that she pressed a little too hard. That maybe she stepped a little over the line, because Santana always rolled her eyes, sighed, scoffed, groaned, or gave any number of signals that she was annoyed or frustrated. Only rarely was she ever silent after that sort of questioning. "Does it matter?" her friend asked, her voice a little harder than it had been that evening. "Rachel's straight, it couldn't happen, so there's no point thinking about it, right? I'm a big girl, Q. You don't need to..."

Sadly, the doorbell rang, and Santana's mouth shut like a vault. Quinn could tell that despite how obvious she was trying to make it out to be, that it wasn't something she particularly liked. The blonde had seen Santana admit some hard things to herself through their many conversations, and that facial expression, that slight, uneven pout of her lower lip, wasn't a good sign; that was 'dejected Santana' peeking out for a brief second or two.

'Dejected Santana' had only made three appearances before, at least that Quinn had known of, and while none were particularly DEFCON 1 emergencies, they almost always happened when Santana was feeling particularly vulnerable. Which almost always meant the girl would get reclusive. _And with her being out in glee, it's only a matter of time until the whole school knows...and then maybe someone will see her injured body and won't care that she took down a wolf...they might see her as a challenge...and I can't be everywhere all the time to protect her, but she needs me right now..._

"Q, can you stop thinking and go get the food, please?" Santana asked wearily, rubbing at her eyes, and at least Quinn knew that was legitimate. Santana was guarded in public, but if the girl was upset enough to cry around her or Britt, she would. It was refreshing, if a bit of a burden, knowing that the girl had such difficulty being open in front of strangers.

Quinn got off the bed and went to the door of the den, pausing at the frame as she looked back. "San, what if she wasn't straight?" She asked, knowing in her heart that maybe it wasn't the most helpful question, but she wanted to hope. Quinn desperately wanted Santana to be happy, so she decided to take a risk and try to get Santana to hope a little harder. Sure, Rachel's straight girl 'crush' might be just that, whatever it was, or it could be the start of something different. Glancing back at Santana, she knew that Finn's words had hit their mark perfectly, but that Rachel held the power to wipe that slate clean. And Quinn would have bet her half of the pizza that there was at least a small chance that Finn was wrong about the brunette.

* * *

Rachel came to school early for two reasons; one was what she was carrying in her right hand, and the other was so that she could put the right plan into action to support Santana. She'd heard through the glee grapevine that Finn had outed Santana during an intense argument about his chances with her, which somehow devolved into Finn accusing Santana of being predatory gay. Which, honestly, was ridiculous. At least, according to Kurt, who was incredibly disappointed with his step-brother to the point of giving him the silent treatment. Something she replicated after sending her ex a text over the matter. Rachel hadn't been able to get any word from either Santana or Quinn, neither answering their phones or facebook messages, and by the time she'd learned what had happened, it had been far too late for a visit.

But certainly not too late for a plan of action, because Santana was at least physically wounded, and Rachel wasn't about to let Santana get similar treatment that Kurt had received. It simply wouldn't do, and the initial play in her plan involved her first reason for coming to school early.

So Rachel stood there, patiently waiting by Coach Sylvester's office door for the tracksuit-wearing she-demon to arrive. She was quite aware that Sue was always at least fifteen minutes early for the Cheerio practices, and with the season over, the woman still showed up at the early hour of seven fifteen. It gave Rachel enough time to complete her first objective at a period of time where the school's security was low, and also allowed for ample pre-class vocal practice afterward.

"Streisand." The voice came seemingly from nowhere, slightly muffled. It was only when Rachel turned and looked in the office that she realized the coach had somehow made it into the office without using the door. It was hard not to be surprised, but given the woman's ludicrous training exercises, Rachel supposed that Coach Sylvester could never be underestimated.

Taking in as much confidence as she could, Rachel opened the office door and walked in, approaching the desk with her package in hand. Well, it was more like a gift basket than anything, but she figured that since no one in the world had likely created such a gift-basket in the past, that it wasn't really a fitting title. "Good morning, Coach Sylvester, my name is Rachel Berry." She announced to the blonde woman who sat at the desk, who was appraising her with a scowl. "As you are likely aware, I was involved in an incident this past weekend with one Santana Lopez."

"I am aware that Boobs McGee's airbags may or may not have saved your lives in that crash of yours." The coach noted offhandedly, looking at Rachel with a level of disdain only held for the most fervent supporters of glee.

"Coach Sylvester, I give you more credit than that. Surely a remarkable woman such as yourself would have known more than a glee club instructor. I just wanted to say that your training methods may be cruel, barbaric, illegal and horrifically paranoid in scope, but I find myself indirectly in your debt. Because of your racist allegations against Santana, and your ruthless quest for cheerleading championships, she was able to use her combat and survival skills to keep the both of us alive, and to teach me basic survival skills." Rachel rambled, working off of the speech she had composed two nights prior, one which she had memorized the previous evening.

Coach Sylvester's eyes narrowed and her face hardened ever so slightly as she glared into Rachel's eyes. "She signed a confidentiality clause in her contract. Page eight-hundred and seventy-three, section V, line fourteen. Gloria Allred will show her what it means to cross me." The woman growled, sending Rachel into action, the diva quickly placing the covered package on the table.

"I do not believe that will be necessary. As a former Cheerio who blossomed under your leadership, the fear surrounding Santana is almost synonymous to the Cheerios. Even with her, Quinn and Brittany gone, the rest in your squad have been given wider berths of approximately two inches in the halls from my observations. And if you brought her back into the squad next year, you could have the only cheerleading captain in the nation who has slain a wolf in hand to hand combat. She's proof of your success." Rachel reasoned, trying to play to Sue's pride, which seemed to be working to a degree, the woman nodding to her words.

"You're saying that I indirectly saved your life though a former protégé of mine, and that event has caused a wave of fear throughout the school that I have created." Sue stated slowly, Rachel nodding eagerly at the words, wishing she was capable of being that concise, knowing it would be favourable in such situations with impatient people. "So why are you here, Streisand?"

Rachel gulped back any remaining fears and uncovered the package. Sue's eyes immediately scanned over all of the items appraisingly, a tiny hint of a smile on her lips. Finding the expression promising, she continued her spiel. "To help stock your supplies. I can only do so much as a minor with few resources and contacts within related communities, but I've managed to get overnight shipping on a number of items that I feel may be helpful in trials and exercises you run." She admitted, handing Sue the list of what was included. "I took into consideration what I knew, and thought that some MREs, lock-pick sets, extensive first aid kits, tactical flashlights, laser sights and scopes would be handy. I also ordered some hunting knives from a reputable company, but I'm fully aware of the legal issues surrounding bringing weapons to school. The address of a storage container is listed at the bottom of the receipt...you can find them there." The cost of the package had been fairly steep, all things considered, but Rachel felt it necessary. Besides, it was only two months' allowance, which meant a few less luxuries, things she wouldn't have been able to enjoy if she had died. It seemed fair.

Sue looked over the collection of items, her hands rifling through them; the woman popped open a lock-pick set and gave it an approving nod, before moving to the first-aid kits, tossing some of the medicine included over her shoulder and into the trash. In the end, the woman seemed content with the offering, and slid her glasses down the bridge of her nose. "Is that all, young lady?"

Now, Rachel knew it was best not to ask favours from the coach, but she needed to ensure that Santana would be safe in the halls. "There may have been a recent leak about an aspect of Santana's life, and...in her current physical state, she might be vulnerable to attacks on her person unless she utilizes some of your training, which could cause undue attention to your program. I would humbly ask that you keep her well-being in mind for the rest of the school year, in order to protect your investment and the fearful school environment."

There was a long pause between her last word and even the first time Sue blinked, and for a few moments Rachel almost thought she'd pushed a little too hard. But then a sly grin slipped across the woman's face after she took a sip of that horrid drink she always had around. "Didn't think you had it in you, Streisand. Come find me if you ever want a career in politics. Otherwise...get out of my office, I can almost smell the residue of Schue's hair products on you."

Feeling a little elated over her successful first objective, Rachel made a hasty exit, quickly continuing on toward her locker. With one job done, yet another series of actions had to be set in place. She may not be big, but Rachel knew she could cast a long shadow down the halls of McKinley if she needed to. She just needed to move her pawns, rooks, and bishops properly, hoping that her remaining healthy knight would protect the other, and that Mister Schuester would go to lengths to keep glee safe like he'd promised in the past.

* * *

The rest of that Thursday morning continued as planned, though she couldn't shake the feeling that something was just a teensy bit off. As far as she knew, Santana's sexuality hadn't yet made the rounds through the school's gossip mill, which was great; Rachel preferred that if the girl's orientation slipped out to the masses, that it happened with a day or two left in the school-year, so that there was an entire summer to use as a buffer to eliminate nearly any immediate intense reactions. She wasn't an idiot; she had done research on what to expect for a girl like Santana to be out, and it ranged from minor sexual harassment to more extreme words and actions.

So with Santana's sexuality still under wraps, it would have made sense for the girl and her clique to meet up with her throughout the morning, but Rachel had only really seen Brittany for any length of time, the girl walking her to each class. Both Quinn and Santana would occasionally be off in the distance, but she'd never been able to get much closer than that.

Which was weird, if she recalled how she'd been treated on Wednesday; the three of them had practically shadowed her around school, Santana showing the odd bit of affection alongside Brittany's lung-crushing hugs. The bubbly blonde had told Rachel that the other two had just woken up late on the wrong side of the bed, but it seemed to be more than that. So she went about investigating, which involved asking for a hall pass with fifteen minutes left in her history class, knowing Mr. Bronson was forgetful and had a horrible understanding of time. It wasn't often that she used them to skip, almost always reserving such things for days when the jocks were on a slushie spree, but Rachel had noticed Santana was fully packed up during last break, which likely meant that the girl had skipped out early to her locker. And with lunch only a few minutes away, it was worth the risk to show up early and drag Santana off to somewhere they could talk.

And so Rachel stood, waiting in a small nook across from Santana's locker, hoping the girl would arrive soon. The tell-tale sounds of crutches off in the distance with four minutes until the bell were a great relief, letting her know that for once, all of her plans seemed to be going off without a hitch. It was a nice feeling.

She watched as Santana sidled up against her locker, quickly spinning the combination lock and opening it; Rachel waited until the girl had emptied her backpack and hands before speaking up. "Good morning, Santana." She noted calmly, ignoring the urge to use her 'evil villain mastermind' voice, because while it was a rare occasion that she surprised anyone, she kind of wanted it to be a good surprise.

Santana, for her part, didn't even flinch, packing her lunch into her backpack before turning her head enough to see the diva. "Hey, Rach. You skipping class these days?" the girl asked flatly, zipping up her bag and slipping the crutches back under her armpits. It was a tiny red flag, but a red flag nonetheless; Santana hadn't brushed her off since they became friends, and it almost sounded foreign out of the former cheerleader's mouth. It sounded wrong.

"Hall pass. I was wondering if we could have lunch together in the auditorium? The chairs are comfy, it's quiet, and there's air conditioning." Rachel asked, hopeful that Santana would agree. However, when the girl's mouth twisted hesitantly, and those familiar dark eyes scanned the halls for something or someone, perhaps an escape, Rachel stepped it up. "San, I need your help. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, and I know you'd probably rather spend it with the Cheerios or whatever, but..."

"Okay." Santana blurted out with a sigh, her gaze locked up at some offending ceiling tile. "And you know I'd prefer eating with you over the damn cheerleaders, Rach."

Rachel wanted to point out that Santana didn't look like she did, or that the girl seemed to not want to be around her at all, but she held her tongue, deciding that those words could wait until they were alone. Besides, she needed to give the girl a reminder that she was still on Santana's side. And so, while the girl was distracted by putting her backpack back on, Rachel approached sneakily and hugged her, giving her a good ol' fashioned Rachel Barbra Berry hug.

It was curious, feeling the air leave Santana's body as a brief metallic clang of something hit the lockers, but the light pressure of the girl's forehead resting on the top of her own was reassuring, nearly as much as the strong, familiar arms that wrapped loosely around her waist. "Thank you." Rachel whispered as she stepped away, helping Santana back onto her crutches again.

Together, they made their way fairly quickly to the cavernous auditorium, avoiding the initial rush of students at the lunch bell that echoed through the room just as they found seats in the front row. Once the bell's noise expired, she'd expected questions from Santana about something, but the girl just silently pulled out her lunch and sat it on her lap.

Deciding to take the initiative, Rachel broke the ice with some small talk. "I talked to Coach Sylvester today." She noted, her hopes of catching Santana's interest coming true, the girl's eyes widening like saucers as she turned to face her.

"You did what?" Santana whispered out, her face twisting in disbelief, a flash of panic flitting across her features. "Are you okay? Did she threaten you? You can tell me if she did, I can protect you."

Rachel smiled at the immediate concern and passion in her friend's eyes, glad to see its return after half a day of relative disinterest. It was nice to know for absolute certain that Wednesday hadn't been a one-time thing. "I'm fine. I gave her a gift-basket of supplies and made some insinuations in exchange for her services."

Santana blinked a few times, her eyes still scanning the diva for any injuries or perhaps tracking devices. "What kind of insinuations? What was in the gift basket? And...what the heck did you ask of her, because it's not good to owe her favours, Rach. I know that firsthand."

She smiled brightly again and rested a hand atop one of Santana's fidgeting ones, immediately calming it. "I gave her some basic survival supplies and perhaps a small shipment of hunting knives. She seemed pleased with that, and how I framed your actions and reputation in the school, so she agreed to protect you in the off chance that something happens." Rachel explained, the worry and low-level panic escaping Santana's eyes in exchange for a calm clarity. Santana took a moment to close her eyes and nod, taking in the information, before resting her own hand atop Rachel's, sandwiching the diva's between her own.

"Please don't worry me like that again. Involve me next time, okay?" Santana asked quietly, her eyes still shut, the girl's teeth worrying her lower lip. Rachel supposed that if anyone knew what Sue was capable of, it was Santana, so she'd follow the request next time. Right then, she was enjoying the attention, having missed it over much of the past twenty-four hours.

"I will, just as long as you keep me around. You were avoiding me this morning, and you didn't need to...Kurt barely told me anything about yesterday, but I can assure you that I don't believe you're 'predatory gay', Santana. I trust you." Rachel stated fervently, hoping to get the other girl to include her like she had before; she liked the attention Santana gave her, she liked being in the girl's inner circle, and wouldn't have traded it for nearly anything in the world.

Santana opened her eyes and let out another sigh; within a second, Rachel was leaning across the armrest, pulling the choked up, emotional girl against her. While a lot of the gleeks had figured out Santana was into girls before the previous day's events, she knew that it was still a big secret to her friend. Pair that with Santana being a private, guarded person, and Rachel knew that the girl hadn't had much help or time processing it. She only hoped that Quinn had done some good the previous night. "San...can you tell me what happened yesterday?" It was a major question, but Rachel felt it could be good for her friend to have some sort of release, that maybe putting it into words could help.

It took nearly a minute for Santana to release herself from Rachel, but when she did, she was stoic and wiping at her eyes. She just squeezed the girl's hand tighter in support, earning a small flash of a smile. "When you left, I told Finn that you didn't want to date him, that he needed to respect that, and you didn't deserve him hounding you relentlessly. Which, obviously, he paid zero attention to, and instead accused me of plotting to hurt you." Santana noted quietly, leaning back in her seat a little bit. Rachel just nodded as a sign for her friend to continue, kind of having expected that from Finn. "So I got mad, because he was doing what he always did, ignoring what people say, and I told him you deserved better. And then he kind of blew up on me."

Rachel sat there patiently as Santana composed herself, her friend taking a number of long, deep breaths before continuing. "He brought up me and Britt, how I loved her but she didn't love me. Then he accused me of liking you, and that it didn't matter how I felt, that you weren't gay, and I'd be alone and angry and shit like normal." Her friend added, swallowing deeply and holding up a hand, Rachel keeping silent for a moment to respect Santana's wishes. "I knew he was just trying to push my buttons and hurt me. And him bringing up Britt like that stung, but whatever. I told him that I knew I was the lone lady-lover in Lima, that I'm good with that. I came to terms with it, you know? Besides, he was being a jackass and trying to hit back at me instead of accepting he fucked up, so I just told him again that you were free to date other guys, that you'd find one, and it wouldn't be him. Then glee broke out into pandemonium, Finn got scared off by Quinn, and me and blondie left early."

Rachel nodded at the tale, pleased that Santana included as much as she had. It wasn't entirely surprising that Finn would lash out like he did, but it was surprising that he'd really, truly outed her on purpose. It just seemed surreal, what with him being brothers with Kurt. _Maybe he just saw the parallel between Santana and Brittany as similar to he and myself, and acted on that...both had one party who were unwilling to continue romantic involvement with the other, but at least Santana salvaged a friendship with her...can I do that with Finn after what he did? I'm forgiving, but this...this is massive..._ Rachel mused silently as Santana looked forward toward the stage. The girl was clearly trying her best to appear strong and unaffected, but after even that weekend, it was clear that Finn had hit at least two sensitive weak points of Santana's; her breakup with Brittany, and her fear of being alone. _It was cruel of him to do that, even if Santana's abrasive to him most times...she had been polite while I was there, and Kurt said there wasn't a fight, and Santana didn't even throw punches or yell, so...maybe she was too shocked? Or maybe she knew I didn't like violence? Now that I think about it, it's odd that Finn accused her of trying to woo me, but...I mean, she's a really sweet girl, at least to me. And there's no question whether she's attractive, and it was rather difficult this morning, knowing that she was avoiding me, but that's simply because I crave attention. Especially if someone is deliberately avoiding giving me it. I know my feelings are weird for her, but...I'm straight, right?_

"Santana..." Rachel started, hoping to reel in her close friend's attention. When her words didn't work, she brought her free hand over and gently pulled the former cheerleader's chin over to face her own, Santana's gaze lowered to her lap. "Santana, Brittany loves you. Quinn loves you. And I already adore you. You won't be alone, not with us here, I promise. Finn is wrong, San."

Those words seemed to resonate, Santana's eyes lifting to meet her own, glimmering with hope that made those deep brown eyes even more glorious than usual. "Okay." Was the sole word out of her friend's mouth, but she wasn't about to complain, not with how connected she felt to the girl again. Certainly not with how Santana was lightly leaning her head into Rachel's open palm, it having slid up to hold the girl's cheek. It reminded her of their nights in the tent, and Sunday evening, when she was just beginning to understand how caring and affectionate her newest friend could be.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, Santana. I won't allow it." She spoke softly and insistently, staring into Santana's eyes until she was certain that her message had been received. "Thank you for doing what you did, and for not hitting him. If he wants to be my friend, he won't tell anyone about you, I told him as much last night when I texted him. But no matter what happens, I'm here for you."

Santana nodded and the smile she offered her was so bright and relieved that Rachel could have broken into song from happiness. It was only Santana insisting that they finish their lunches before the period was over that prevented her from taking advantage of the locale. Like Santana had shown the previous day, sometimes a little restraint was alright.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the week had gone well for Santana, all things considered, which had been something of a surprise given she'd been outed to some of the school's worst gossips. She almost admired the restraint Kurt and Mercedes were showing by not talking about her at school or spreading any news about her; Finn, well, she just knew Rachel was playing on his competitive yearning heart to keep him silent. Either way, she was still free as a bird in terms of harassment about her sexuality, and Rachel had given her the support she needed to hear from the diva, so she made the most of the rest of Thursday and Friday. Once more, she was escorting Rachel to classes most of the time, with Britt filling in for her on classes the two shared.

And in those few moments escorting Rachel, she let herself treat the diva like she did Britt and sometimes Quinn; it was something she was trying to work on, because for years she was so closed off in public, but she knew her friends liked it when she openly supported them, and Rachel deserved more than Santana using Britt on her as a middleman for her affection. She knew that Britt liked hugs, playful nudges and pinkie-linking, that Quinn liked those moments before school and during lunch where they just stood by their lockers and took a breather, leaning on each other a little. And she knew that when Quinn was thinking of Beth, that the blonde liked the odd waist squeeze or hand-holding. With Britt, it was all overt affection, while Quinn preferred more subtle forms.

And Rachel, well, she seemed to like anything and everything Santana threw her way. Whether it was something as small as a wink, as basic as a hug at the start of the day, or a compliment about anything from her appearance to her talent, Rachel seemed to eagerly soak it all in, and people quickly started seeing the diva as another Brittany instead of giving Santana crap. And when Rachel sang her a song in glee on Friday, a k.d. Lang song about having the right to love, of all things, that just blew her mind. Enough for her to give Rachel a hug and a fleeting, somewhat sneaky kiss on the cheek. _I mean seriously…she sang about something like that in front of everyone and she looked so freaking sincere about it, and I just couldn't help myself! What was I supposed to do, give her a stiff nod when I know she preferred a hug? Damn right I'll give her a hug! And, like, a kiss or whatever, because no one in glee's sung me a song before, and it was kind of really nice, and I wanted her to know that. Is that a crime? I mean, I'm sure she wouldn't take it badly or anything…_ she mused to herself as she walked into her kitchen, recalling how confused some of the gleeks got when she hugged the diva, the affectionate gesture far from normal behavior given her history. However, she knew her behavior would be changing, and that Finn could glare at her all he wanted, that it wouldn't stop her. _Not my fault their friendship is on the rocks…_

Anyway, her week had gone quite well, and her Saturday was already off to a great start, what with Britt and Quinn arriving early that afternoon to hang out, cook, and generally set up the den into a killer sleepover zone. Santana had rarely stopped smiling throughout the whole day, just happy that she was going to be able to spend some private time with her favourite girls. After months of incredibly minimal time together, it felt blissful to have already had a few nights together with them in less than a week. Sure, she expected that kind of regularity to taper off after a while still, but she had hope that they wouldn't forget her again.

Sure, there was still a chance of that happening but as Santana watched both girls finishing up the food preparation for the night, namely fajitas with both vegan and non-vegan options, she had a feeling that they would last. Certainly at least until the end of senior year, but maybe even after that. It was a good, warm feeling in her chest that only bloomed that much more when she heard the doorbell ring.

Santana waved the girls off, gesturing for them to just finish up while she got the door. It wasn't as if she was entirely helpless or anything, she was just a little sore, slightly weakened from her bum leg and a mangled arm. No biggie. Or, well, okay it was kind of big, but it didn't mean she couldn't get a goddamn door and let Rachel in. As if she was going to let someone else see that smile before she did.

She opened the door with only minimal difficulty and just basked in the bright excited smile Rachel was giving her. "Good evening, Santana! I'm sorry for being late, there was a traffic accident on the corner of Frost and Gilmore and sadly, many motorists didn't understand the proper etiquette for driving through intersections with nonfunctional lights, which in turn caused some impatient motorists to halt the flow of traffic, thus forcing me to be late, and…" Rachel rambled nervously, though the smile on her face was still bright and genuine, so she knew Rachel wasn't that distressed. And a quick glance at her watch showed that Rachel was a bit off in her assessment.

"Rachel, you're three minutes early. And let me at least take care of one of those bags for you, you're not my pack mule or anything." Santana noted playfully, quickly grabbing a paper bag with some bulk collections of pretzels, trail mix, and other healthy snacks that she shouldn't have been surprised to see. Rachel pouted slightly, but stepped into the house and gave Santana an appraising full-body glance to probably ensure she was okay. Rachel had been doing that a lot whenever she did anything remotely strenuous, which Santana supposed made sense. "I'm fine, Rach. You can take your bag into the den if you like."

Rachel nodded and quickly moved toward the room they'd all be sharing, and she couldn't help but smile at the bounce in Rachel's footsteps. She was pretty sure the diva had only rarely been invited to sleepovers, so she hoped her newest friend would enjoy it. All in all, it was ramping up to be a good night; good food, good company, plenty of shit to watch, plenty of couch to sit on, plenty of bed to sleep on.

Once they'd settled into the den with their food, all piled onto the couch that just barely fit the four of them comfortably, the debates on what to watch started. Anything from her collection was fair game, which more or less had Santana pretty neutral about it all; either way, they'd be watching something she liked, so she didn't see the point in arguing. Brittany wanted an animal-themed Disney movie marathon, but Quinn and Santana used their vetoes on that because it would mean watching Fox & the Hound, a film they specifically put in a mandatory 2 year minimum time window for between watches. It was just really fucking sad, alright? No one needed to see her and Quinn weeping through a movie that somewhat closely resembled their own personal relationship through their high school years. It just wasn't going to happen.

Rachel, of course, wanted a musical-themed marathon, but Santana only really had Disney movies and RENT. Brittany had been coming dangerously close to siding with Rachel on her little campaign, though, which was both kind of amusing and terrifying, because a night of musicals would be potentially too much for Santana's ears to handle. Even if she could imagine Rachel singing along to each song all cute-like. Thankfully, Quinn seemed to remember something everyone had forgotten.

"Wait, this was supposed to be a TV show marathon night…right?" the blonde asked, her voice desperate and hopeful, clearly not having wanted to get roped into a night of musicals as well. Santana's eyes flickered over to see Rachel about to respond, before stilling, a frown forming on her face.

"I…I think that is correct Quinn." Rachel noted somberly, ducking her head ever so slightly in clear disappointment. "I do believe Santana informed me that she planned to watch a string of episodes from a TV show."

It sucked that Rachel was clearly pretty bummed out, but she had hopes that the girl would like whatever they ended up selecting. "Thanks for reminding me, Quinn." She whispered into her friend's ear, giving her a thankful little nudge. Sure, it was only temporary, but that day they could claim victory over musicals. "So crime procedurals are out, because that's me and Q's thing, but everything else is fair game, ladies." Santana added, which Quinn seemed to approve of, given that the girl shifted her weight a bit and lightly leaned against her. While it had never been super official or anything that they had a 'thing', she knew that blondie really loved those types of shows, and so did she, while Britt was more or less indifferent, so whenever they'd be alone for some TV watching, it usually ended up being one of those. So it was a 'thing', Santana figured, and labeling it properly only seemed fair. And it was nice, having something officially just hers and Quinn's.

"Let's watch something in space." Britt stated, her immediate excitement cluing Santana into the notion that the dancer may have thought of something specific.

"Anything in particular, B?" All heads turned to the taller girl, who was practically bouncing in her seat like an over-excited corgi or something. As with most things Brittany-related, it was kind of an adorable sight, warming her heart to see her friend so carefree and happy.

Britt nodded quickly and smiled brightly. "Rocket Robin Hood!" The girl's breathless delivery was just too much for her to take, and she couldn't suppress her laughter even if she tried. She really should have seen it coming. _Cartoons, of course…and that fucking goddamn miserable one she always made me watch when we were younger…fuck, I already used my veto!_

Santana turned her head from Britt and gave Rachel a pleading look, mouthing 'veto' to the diva, which apparently Rachel thought was more amusing than anything. Berry just wasn't aware of how tremendously horrible the show was, and she really didn't want the girl to find out. Britt, Santana knew, was too excited to back down from it, and Quinn liked cartoons as well, so without Rachel opposing it, it all looked bleak.

"Well, I could certainly imagine myself enjoying tales of Robin Hood, all within the context of apparently modern times or in some futuristic science fiction context…" Rachel began, earning a bright, hopeful expression from Britt. It sucked, because Santana really didn't want to disappoint Britt, but she also didn't want to sit through a marathon of one of the worst cartoons she'd ever witnessed. "…However, I can't help but ask why there is such a large collection of Battlestar Galactica box sets on your shelf when I haven't seen any of them in my father's personal collection."

And right then, Santana was pretty sure she'd never wanted to kiss Rachel so badly, because like an angel sent down from heaven, the girl had just saved her from Rocket Robin Hood. It was a miracle!

"WHAT?!" Quinn yelled out, jumping off the couch as if it was on fire, her hazel eyes wide and focused on the diva who immediately cowered against Santana at the outburst. "Tell me you've at least heard about the new series of BSG, Rachel! I mean…oh my god…your father's probably one of those purists! I…how can I even be in the same room with…"

"Easy, Q. You know I'm up for showing her what she's been missing." Santana noted with her best soothing voice, knowing that when Lucy's inner-geek flared up, the girl could really say some pretty weird stuff, and it was already bordering on insulting where she stopped her. She turned and gently unlatched Rachel from her side, the girl quite reluctant to untangle the arms she had wrapped around Santana's bicep. It was a wonderful feeling to have Rachel holding her like that, sure, but that stuff could happen later, when the Rocket Robin Hood threat was utterly annihilated. "Rach, I think you'd like it. It's a drama of an epic story, with a lot of complex, human characters. And it has a great score."

She watched the diva's face contort slightly as the girl considered the options available, hoping and praying Rachel made the right decision. The pilot episode for Battlestar Galactica was pretty damn good, and she knew Berry would probably get reeled in by the tension and drama. Rocket Robin Hood promised nothing but tears and despair.

"I'm sorry Brittany, but I have a soft spot for dramatic stories. I'm going to have to side with the Battlestar Galactica selection." Rachel said, and it was probably the most beautiful two sentences she'd heard all day.

Surprisingly, Brittany only shrugged. "It's okay, Rach. Helo and Apollo are, like, super hot, and there are really cool ships in space and everything. We can watch Rocket Robin Hood next time." The tall blonde noted nonchalantly, though if Santana could help it, that show would never, ever be playing within the walls of her home again.

Quinn was at least relieved enough that Rachel would expose herself to some sci-fi greatness to cut the diva some slack, and kept quiet as they started the first episode. Predictably, Rachel quickly invested herself in the show, the diva often pressed tightly against Santana in order to whisper occasional questions in her ear. And, of course, to have someone to cling to in tense moments. It was all pretty awesome, in Santana's eyes.

Midway through the second episode, though, she saw a familiar sight and just had to comment on it. Santana lightly prodded Rachel to get her attention, and then pointed over to Quinn, who was leaning forward and entirely enraptured by the scene on the screen. "Wanna know something funny?" she whispered, earning a curious nod from the small diva, who kept peeking past Santana at the spellbound blonde. "Quinn has the hugest girl crush on Boomer."

Rachel's eyes went wide as the diva looked long and hard at Quinn, seeming to take in every since detail of her expression before turning back to Santana. "But…Quinn's straight, right?"

Santana bit back a laugh and nodded. "Well, yeah, but it doesn't change that if Boomer was a real life person, Q would drop everything and try to romance the shit out of her. I mean, sure it probably wouldn't work out, because…well, you'll find out later, and it's not like Boomer's a real complex person, but there's one episode in this series that she will always drool in. It's ridiculous." Santana mused openly, finding the whole thing ridiculously amusing. Well, she was able to find it amusing now; before, back when Lucy's crush on Boomer began, Santana thought it was a clear sign that the blonde was into girls. Sadly, she'd been mistaken; Quinn was into cylon girls with pretty faces who could pilot aircraft. There was apparently a difference, and she'd eventually learned that, and became used to it. At least, enough to be able to laugh to herself about it, which was something she liked to call progress.

"What if Quinn had a girl crush on the actress who plays Boomer? Is she not physically attracted to her as well?" Rachel asked, and while it was starting to veer off-topic, Santana figured she could answer it. Besides, she'd watched the whole series a number of times over, especially the first two seasons.

"Uhhh…well, I guess she'd be something other than straight at that point if she was into some real life lady loving. But Q likes Boomer's story, what she goes through, her personality quirks and characteristics and shit…I mean, sure, she's probably a little attracted, but I figure it's only because she'd remind her of Boomer." Santana explained, trying to make as much sense of Quinn's infatuation as she could, given the circumstances. "And, like, it's a crush. Not every crush starts because someone's hot or pretty or whatever. Super ugly people get together all the time, and it's not like it's only because they're settling or some shit, right? People can like people for all kinds of reasons."

Rachel's face scrunched up as the girl seemed to slip deep into thought, and while she would have been happy to answer more of the diva's questions, she wasn't put off by the girl's silence over the next few episodes. Instead, it just made the occasional leaning, squeezing and shocked gasps all that more enjoyable. _Which probably makes me some ridiculous sap or some shit, but fuck it…I'm, like…kind of addicted to how adorable she is. Whatever, it's totes legit…I mean…just freaking look at her…_

They made it through nearly the entire first season by the time Santana realized that Brittany was asleep, much of her body draped across her and Quinn's laps. The other blonde was squinting at the screen, clearly tired, but not tired enough to give up on the marathon quite yet. And Rachel, well she was cuddled up against Santana, fighting to stay awake.

On most occasions, she'd simply go through the full season, but Santana knew Rachel had likely been up before everyone, and probably needed some good quality sleep in order to not mess with her sleep schedule. Deciding to be diplomatic, she gave Quinn a light nudge, gathering the tired girl's attention.

"Hey…Britt's asleep, and Rachel won't be able to appreciate the final episode if she's blacking out for half of it. We should finish off here, Q." she reasoned, and after a few lengthy seconds of consideration, the blonde nodded and shrugged, shutting off the DVD player and TV.

Santana knew that Britt and Quinn wouldn't take long in the bathroom, so she let those two commandeer it while she and Rachel got the bed ready, the diva insisting to do the brunt of the work despite yawning non-stop. It was only because she was in a fantastic mood that she let Berry boss her around, really, letting the girl shoo her toward the bathroom when the blondes returned. Santana still hated her crutches, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world, and in a few weeks, she'd be rid of them. _Until then, though, B, Q and Rach are probably going to be all over me, tripping over themselves to help…and…well, maybe I don't mind that so much so long as they don't treat me like an invalid._

It didn't take long to get ready for bed; she hadn't really put much of any makeup on, so she mostly just washed her face and hands, cleaned her teeth, and then ushered Rachel in so the diva could do her nightly ritual. Feeling quite tired, she slowly made her way back to the den on her slightly unwieldy crutches, stilling at the doorframe at the sight before her. Britt and Quinn had apparently flamed out during her short absence, the dancer having managed to splay herself across Blondie in a position she'd consider uncomfortable if she didn't know the taller girl's sleeping habits. Happy that the girls had at least left her some room, she managed her way over to the bedside and slipped under the covers admittedly waiting eagerly for the last girl to arrive.

Santana wasn't about to readily admit it to much of anyone, but she'd really liked sleeping with the diva during their weekend adventure. It wasn't something that she found easy to describe, even after days of internal deliberation. Sure, Santana knew she had a pretty decent-sized crush on the smaller girl, and that Rachel was soft and cozy and ridiculously cute. Those things made the whole experience enjoyable for sure, and it explained why she'd fall asleep with a smile on her face. _I mean, all that explains a lot of shit but it doesn't…it doesn't explain how…well, for a lack of a better word, serene I feel when I have her close to me. She makes everything just feel…more, I guess. I just wish I could find the words…and…_

Her breath caught in her throat, just seeing Rachel slink into the room, carefully closing the door behind her. Santana had seen Rachel wearing more provocative clothing, certainly, and she'd seen Rachel all dirty and sweaty and ridiculously hot, but it was different to see her in her sleep shorts and camisole. She couldn't help but feel it was a teensy bit intimate, and still would have been if it was winter and the girl was wearing some ridiculous pink flannel onesie. The previous weekend's excursion gave her a rather accidental glimpse at what it would be like, but she wasn't ready for a fresh-faced Rachel shyly tiptoeing toward the bed at a snail's pace in an attempt to not wake the blondes. It was just too intimate and cute and her brain was quickly becoming mush.

Santana wanted to laugh, because both of her oldest friends were pretty deep sleepers, and even if Rachel was hopping around instead of tiptoeing like some weird cartoon character, they wouldn't hear her. Still, she didn't have the heart to distract the girl from her careful steps, so she waited patiently until the diva got close enough before pulling back the covers for her to get in. Rachel looked entirely accomplished when she slid in directly beside Santana, probably thinking she'd done something equivalent of braving a dragon's den or whatever, given her odd fear of Quinn. _Though I can't complain, she was cuddled up against me all night after Q's angry nerdgasm over BSG…_

She opened her arms as a signal for the girl to curl into her, but Rachel surprisingly looked hesitant, which had red flags popping up in her head. Still, while it sucked, Santana knew it was Rachel's call to make in the end. "Hey, no worries. Let's just get some rest, estrella, okay?" She asked in hushed tones, knowing she could speak at a normal level, but figuring she'd go along with the diva's game of being as quiet as possible.

"It's not that, San. I…well…" Rachel's soft voice was all she cared to hear at the moment, unconsciously shifting slightly toward the smaller girl to hear her better. After a few moments of silence, she cocked an eyebrow, silently asking her to continue. "I was wondering…well…canIbethebigspoon?"

Santana had to focus to hear that last jumble of words, but once she processed them, she couldn't help but snicker a little, earning a little perturbed pout on Berry's very kissable looking lips. "You want to jetpack me? Be my little koala hanging on my back?" she murmured, ridiculously amused at the proposition and teasing potential.

Rachel, of course, huffed, and would have stomped her foot had she been standing. It was pretty adorable. "I'm not that much smaller than you!" the girl whispered loudly and petulantly, before schooling her features into a look of concern. "Besides, you've always been holding me, and it's admittedly rather wonderful, but I don't want you to think you're not worth holding either, and I've also sort of always wanted to be the big spoon as well at least once in my life, and thought that this would be a nice time for that to happen, what with you hurt, and it would really make me feel better and like I was helping if I could do this, and while I may…"

Santana had heard plenty, and while she was still tremendously amused at the whole idea, as well as with Rachel's rant, she pressed a finger to the girl's lips to still her for a moment. "You had me at 'it would really make me feel better', Rach. Now, I have one important question to ask you." Santana noted with a smirk, enjoying the bright, excited smile on Rachel's lips as the girl awaited her very serious question of great importance. "Are you my jetpack, or my baby koala? Answer right, and you're my big spoon tonight."

Rachel looked about to protest before her mouth clamped shut, the girl visibly slipping into her thoughts as she mulled the question over. Not that it was a difficult question, or that she wouldn't give in either way; she just wanted to stay awake under the covers with the girl a little longer. Santana just couldn't help but want a little more time.

"I…think I will commit to baby koala. Final answer." Rachel noted with a goofy smile, because of course she'd pull out a dorky game-show reference like that.

Santana stared at the hopeful girl for a few lengthy seconds before breaking out into a grin. "Yep! But why?" she asked as she shifted onto her side, giving Rachel her back in what would probably be a ridiculous looking sleeping position. Not that she was a lot taller than Rachel, but still. Three inches was three inches.

She soon felt Rachel's arms sliding around her waist, clasping by her bellybutton as the girl pressed herself close against Santana's back. "How about you tell me, Tana?"

Santana chuckled at the response, having expected Rachel to honestly answer it. It seemed the girl was getting a little playful, given her tone. "Well, you're smaller than me, of course, and you're nice to cuddle with." She admitted, totally blushing because fuck if she was just going to close Rachel off when she was feeling so happy and secure. Sure, she wasn't going to tell the girl it was the best right answer because it had a term of endearment in it, but whatever. "You're cute too, but super feisty. And you've got a nose on you, but again…it's cute. Koalas like their sleep, they love eating leaves and rabbit food, they're good at climbing trees, and…they're rare. So yeah."

Rachel lightly nuzzling the back of her neck was answer enough that the girl appreciated it, or at least Santana hoped she did. She WAS being nice, after all, and maybe Berry just didn't expect that sort of answer. Either way, she didn't really care anymore, because she really liked Rachel holding her close, the girl's warm breath against her neck and shoulder was tremendously soothing.

"Santana?" She heard the diva whisper against her neck, needing to fight off the full-body shiver the girl's voice threatened to elicit. She hummed a response, too focused on not physically reacting to the girl just breathing out her name so softly and smoothly like that. "Do you…do you have a girl crush like Quinn?"

The question was odd, but she knew Rachel was sleepy, and was probably just letting any free thoughts slip out of her mouth, whether or not they made much sense. "Estrella, all my crushes are girl crushes. Do you mean, like, on a TV character or whatever?" Santana felt Rachel nod against her, the light pressure of the girl's nose feeling pretty fantastic against the side of her neck. It made it hard to focus on the girl's question, especially since she really didn't crush on fictional characters. Not in a long time, at least. Still, Santana figured that she could use the opportunity to kind of put herself out there, because while it wasn't likely that Rachel was into her, there wasn't any harm in alluding to potential interest, right? "I guess…the closest would be Dr. Isles from Rizzoli and Isles…if I had to choose one."

Santana heard Rachel hum in wonder, clearly processing that information. It only took a moment, though, before the tiny koala on her back was at it again. "I always thought you'd be the kind who'd feel something for Buffy, or all the characters Michelle Rodriguez plays. Why her?" The diva admitted sheepishly, and she wasn't too far off. Santana really liked both of those actresses and their work, but she wasn't into them like that. Not really.

"Why not? She's smart, talented, beautiful, passionate, cute, and funny. Not to mention she's loyal as hell and would be quirky enough to keep me on my toes with her perfectionism and patience." She explained, being vague in hopes that Berry would at least acknowledge that she would fit her interests rather seamlessly. The diva didn't seem the type to be anything but flattered if she wasn't interested after finding out, anyway, so Santana figured there was only minimal risk.

"And that's your type?" Rachel prodded, apparently wanting to milk more details out of her. _Hell, I'll bite…not like I didn't just tip my hand…_

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, there's other stuff too, but I need someone who can keep up with me, but isn't too similar, you know? I like smart, passionate women who know what they want, whether it's their dreams or who they want to spend their time with. Someone whose head and heart are in the right place." Santana hoped that her words were sinking in, and that she wasn't leaving anything major to question. All she could hope is that come the morning, Rachel would remember.

But for now, with Rachel's arms hugging her tightly, and the girl's breaths falling into a soft, steady rhythm, she figured she'd just enjoy this. "Sleep tight, Rach."

The content, sleepy mumble from the diva was enough comfort to know that at least the girl wasn't totally asleep, and more importantly, was comfy.

* * *

Rachel woke early the next morning, feeling entirely content with Santana's cozy body in her arms. It gave her a similar sort of warmth in her chest as during their weekend adventure, but it felt slightly different; just knowing that she was keeping watch over Santana, and that the girl was entirely at peace in her care, was wonderful. Under normal circumstances, she would have been out of the bed as soon as her internal alarm clock woke her, but Rachel decided that a few more minutes cuddling the sleeping girl's body was alright, especially given that she hadn't brought her running gear, and there wasn't an elliptical machine nearby.

The previous night had been incredibly pleasant for the most part; there was one moment when Quinn had an angry outburst, but Santana had calmed the blonde and acted as a shield between the two, rendering it only a minor blip of unpleasantness. The fajitas had been incredibly tasty, so she'd been rather full and happy when it had come around to choosing what to watch. Rachel had hoped for something with music, but they'd all decided on a new version of Battlestar Galactica, which was ultimately a riveting dramatic tale that had managed to steal most of her attention. The final portion was taken up by Santana, who she occasionally used as a human tension ball and pillow, given how tense the show was at times. It was simply nice to have her there to hold onto and cuddle with throughout the marathon, and across their few verbal interactions, she'd proven thought provoking.

The remarks on Quinn's 'girl crush' had managed to get Rachel thinking about her own, and whether it compared. She'd broken her situation with Santana down into two potential entities, 'Hero Santana' and 'Real Santana', figuring that if she was harboring romantic feelings due to Santana's heroism, it was equivalent to crushing on a fictional character, like Quinn was. Yet, as she broke the characteristics of her attraction down, the more convinced she was that she actually liked Santana.

Rachel enjoyed Santana for a plethora of reasons, and had managed to create a rather extensive mental list. Among many other things, Santana was sweet and kind to her, she was patient, she was thoughtful and understanding, she was loyal and intelligent, she was athletic and beautiful, and her voice was wonderful. And she was really comfortable to hold or be held by. Rachel had come to the conclusion that yes, she had a legitimate crush on Santana, but much like how Santana said, her reasons varied from Quinn's. Where the blonde was rendered an infatuated, drooling mess at the intimate scenes with Boomer, or when the girl was scantily clad, Rachel could admit that all the seeds for love were growing within her when it came to Santana. It was her lust that wasn't a complete picture yet; she'd been awe-struck and shocked when Santana had crawled into the tent all nude, and she hadn't been able to ponder that reaction before the storm hit. So while Rachel felt Santana was gorgeous, and there was an indescribable pull to her, she couldn't quite say she was sexually attracted to a significant degree yet. She just hadn't been exposed to enough situations with the girl that were more sexual or sensual in nature. Which, of course, only created more unknown variables, and provided more questions regarding her own sexuality than she had going in.

However, if there was one thing that Rachel was fairly sure of, it was that Santana could possibly see her romantically. The girl had been rather vague in listing out what her 'type' had been, but she was pretty sure that she fit the former cheerleader's criteria fairly well. Sure, Rachel knew she wasn't the most beautiful person, or the cutest for that matter, and that she didn't have the greatest sense of humour. Still, she fit the more narrowed description Santana gave, knowing that she did have her head and heart in the right place most times, and that she was unapologetically ambitious and didn't shy away from what or who she wanted. _It's just a tricky situation…I just gained her friendship, can I just try for more before I know the full spectrum of what I feel for her? Would that honestly be fair?_ She wondered as she carefully slipped her arms out from around the girl and made her way out of the bed, making sure to pull the comforter around her crush. And maybe she planted a light kiss to her temple before leaving, as well, and maybe it felt really nice.

After taking a few minutes to refresh herself in the bathroom and completely rinse the sleep from her face, Rachel strolled into the kitchen, only to find Quinn there, starting to prepare breakfast. Thinking back, she didn't see anyone aside from Santana and Brittany when she left the bed, so the blonde must have been awake before her. Which, in all honesty, was slightly odd, given how often she'd been given flak for her early morning routines.

"Why hello, Quinn! I trust you had a nice sleep?" Rachel asked as cheerfully as she could manage, given how scary Quinn was to her still. Sure, the last week had toned down her terror Quinntensity levels a fair bit, but the blonde still had her moments where the angry, vicious ice-queen would pop out. Rachel really, desperately wanted to avoid such a moment, especially since they were alone.

Thankfully, Quinn just shot her a warm smile before returning her focus to the batter she was preparing. "I cut up some fruit for you, it's on the island if you're hungry." The girl noted, though where her smile had been warm, her voice was clearly not as convincing in its attempt to come across as content.

Still, Rachel decided not to pry, and moseyed herself over to the island, taking a seat on the stool closest to the bowl of fruit. There were pear and peach slices, raspberries, cut up strawberries, a few blueberries, and some banana slices. All in all, a nice morning snack that she quickly dug into using the fork Quinn had been courteous enough to provide in advance. "Thank you, Quinn. Do you need any help with the rest of the breakfast preparations?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. It relaxes me." Quinn spoke, sounding a little more at ease with her back turned to Rachel, but there was still an audible nervousness in the girl's voice that Rachel couldn't ignore. She knew she'd probably regret it later on, but she couldn't just let that be.

"Are you stressed about the rest of your final exams?" Rachel asked deciding to test the waters with the most likely possibility, and use whatever evidence came up afterward to hone in on the real issue.

Quinn waved her hand dismissively as she poured some batter into the frying pan. "No, nothing like that. I'm prepared enough for those."

That had been the first remotely steady response she'd heard all morning, so Rachel decided to press a bit further, to see what Quinn would freely give her. "Quinn, I'd like to believe that I'm your friend, and while I know and support you keeping personal matters private, I've been told I'm a good listener. By Santana of all people." She added that last statement as emphasis, not quite recalling if Santana said as much in those exact words, but she knew that she girl wouldn't have talked about so much with her had she not been.

Quinn simply continued her preparation, flipping up six pancakes before taking the pan off the heat and turning around to face Rachel. She looked nervous and a bit conflicted, but her gaze was unyieldingly focused on Rachel's own. "You can't tell Santana or Brittany. Under no circumstances can you say a word of it, or insinuate..."

"I promise. As someone who has her own secrets and keeps them close to her chest, I can fully appreciate the need for secrecy, Quinn." Rachel noted softly, feeling a little brave and foolhardy for daring to interrupt the blonde, but thankfully the girl just crossed the floor and sat across from her.

"It's hard to explain, but maybe…talking about it will help?" Quinn mumbled more to herself than anyone else, though she was clearly audible with Rachel sitting so close. "Sometimes I just have these moments where I feel too much, and it gets confusing…and overwhelming. And it's like…I need something to anchor me, to remind me there are three meals in a day, that we have school, and practices. That 'The Amazing Race' is on in the evening, and that my friends are a phone call away if I want them, and a phone call away if I don't."

Rachel considered the blonde's words for a moment, but they were mostly all flash and no substance, all details of things that she couldn't appreciate without first understanding the context. "What sort of feelings?"

Quinn let out a long sigh and ran a surprisingly shaky hand through her hair, apparently not used to approaching this topic enough to be able to keep her reactions masked. Either that, or the blonde was letting Rachel see her, which would be wonderful if true. "Ones I'm not supposed to have. Not anymore. I…you probably don't understand."

She could see the sheer conflict on Quinn's face as she struggled with her words, but there was some familiarity there. There was this fairly intense faraway look in the blonde's eyes that reminded her of how Santana looked when discussing Brittany. "No, I'm sorry, Quinn. But there's no rush to find the right words…take your time, and eat your pancakes while you think."

Quinn nodded and happily took the opportunity for a distraction, even if it was a temporary one. Rachel just watched the girl mow down three of the things before daintily placing her fork down in its proper place, as if she hadn't just devoured a plate of food greedily. "I'm not a natural blonde." The girl spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, and Rachel could tell the admission was tremendously difficult for her to make. "One day, I just made the decision to be a blonde, like the rest of my family, like…like how I was supposed to be. Like how I should have been. I was the black sheep of the family, the disgrace, so I fixed myself and took a better name."

Rachel nodded slowly, taking in the new information; honestly, she couldn't help but be impressed by the level of commitment Quinn took in ensuring her roots never showed. It was something she would have noticed for sure in the past, and that she hadn't was a fairly large surprise. "I didn't know…but I want you to know, Quinn, that your hair colour is your choice, you're still Quinn with or without it."

"Is that honestly, true?" Quinn's response was fast, but lacked the harshness or anger she was used to in such exchanges, the girl's tone sadder than anything else. "I mean, that's the problem, isn't it?"

Rachel couldn't help but give the blonde a puzzled look as she considered the girl's questions, not quite understanding where the problem was, or why it wouldn't be true. Quinn didn't follow up her statements, instead deciding to hand-pick bits from her bowl of fruit to snack on nervously. It was terribly frustrating, trying to decipher the girl's words on such little working knowledge. She kept going over and over everything she knew about Quinn, not able to find anything that could possibly explain the blonde's worries. At least, until Rachel realized she was thinking about it from the wrong perspective.

"You made yourself into someone you thought you had to be, someone you thought you were supposed to be, until you were." Rachel stated confidently, drawing Quinn's eyes away from the fruit bowl and back to her own coffee brown set. The sigh and stiff nod were more of an answer than she thought she'd receive, so she decided to keep guessing openly, hoping that if she made any mistakes in her judgment, the blonde would correct her. "It's been a long time since you were that person you left behind, or at least maybe you've forgotten a lot about her. And if you ever stopped being vigilant with your hair, if you ever wanted to go brunette, it would destroy your reality, because all you'd have to do is stop dying it, and you'd lose a critical piece of the foundation that you built Quinn Fabray from. That you're always dealing with 'someone else' potentially naturally coming out, showing through."

Again, Quinn nodded, the frown deepening on her face as Rachel predicted what the issue was. And certainly, she didn't have an answer for the blonde, at least not right then. The girl had clearly made incredible efforts to repurpose herself into some ideal figure, founded primarily around her physical image, and likely secondarily from her social image. Not having been privy to Quinn's previous experiences, she couldn't possibly discern what was hand-crafted in the quest for perfection, and what was deemed satisfactory enough to translate across from the past to the present. That she changed names only made it trickier, framing it all as if she'd went from being one girl into a completely different one, when Rachel was fairly certain that the reality of the situation was quite different. But for Quinn, from the inside looking out, it was probably like being under the threat of all the previous insecurities that made her feel forced to change in the first place. "This isn't at all about hair colour, though, is it?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Rachel was happy that Quinn answered anyway. "No. Sometimes, things happen and it makes me wonder…" the girl started, before choking on her words slightly, which was apparently not allowed, so all speech was halted. Rachel reached out a hand for the blonde to take in hopes it would help, and surprisingly Quinn took it and clenched it tightly. "It makes me wonder if I can change a little, or if it'll destroy me. Being pregnant almost did."

And that honestly wasn't a question that Rachel felt qualified to answer, but as she thought about it, it didn't seem to be one that was in terrible need of an answer anyway. "Isn't it worth a try? Quinn, you have friends and family here to support you through anything. Santana would march through hell and beat the ever-living heck out of anything in her way if it meant getting you a bottle of Nyquil if you were sick and having trouble sleeping." She responded, hoping it would at least let her friend know that as scary as that question may be, whatever the answer, she will have people behind her to help.

And when Quinn let out a brief laugh, she knew she'd at least made some progress, even if it involved creative license over Santana's borderline ludicrous loyalty. "I just…it's taken so long, but I'm finally comfortable being me, being Quinn. I mean…would you take a leap of faith like that, Rachel?"

Between the pleading tone of Quinn's voice and the sheer honesty of the question, Rachel knew she couldn't deny that she'd inadvertently had her own advice thrust back upon her. It would clearly be hypocritical to not at least consider it, so Rachel did, knowing that she as well had something of a major personal characteristic at stake. All her life, she'd imagined herself falling in love with a man, and later she imagined Finn in that role. It had always been a man, so she fit a nice narrative that went along with the fairy tales and the usual celebrity storylines in the news. Women in Broadway who dated women weren't exactly numerous, at least not those who had success. It was scary to imagine how being in a relationship with someone like Santana could hamper her ability to gain roles and to achieve her dreams, yet her dreams were always built on the foundation of there being a man. Would her dreams endure by changing that foundational aspect? It was difficult to say, but she knew that she'd struggled through her life already without much support. With the support of her family and newfound friends, she couldn't help but imagine she'd be at the very least fiercely supported in her quest for success if that change was made.

And maybe her stress and worries would diminish having arms like Santana's to hold her each night in New York, or hands like Santana's to massage her after a long and arduous dance class. And maybe she'd find true love, and that would help her stand up to any challenge in her way, because she would never be alone, not with her person by her side every step of the way. Maybe the risk would be worth it. Maybe that was a leap worth making.

"I would." Rachel stated confidently after some deliberation, earning a positively shocked expression from the blonde seated across from her. She lightly squeezed the hand of Quinn's that she still had a hold of for extra reassurance, hoping to provide the girl with some piece of mind, or at least some explanation. "It might take me a while to get to the point where I feel confident enough to try, and I won't pretend that I wouldn't be scared and freaking out, but I would, Quinn. It's how we grow."

Quinn squeezed back and carefully unclasped Rachel's hand, returning her paler one to her side. "It's just hard being brave sometimes."

"People are brave when they're scared, but still do what they believe is right, Quinn. And only you know what's right for you." Rachel added, shooting the blonde a warm smile as she collected the dishes moved to the sink to start cleaning in preparation for the other two girls. As far as she was aware, Santana still woke early since their weekend together, and Brittany didn't seem the type to sleep in too late.

Quinn soon returned to help create more pancake batter and cut up more fruit, Rachel wordlessly jumping in once she finished cleaning, getting toast and bacon ready, though once she put the latter on, the blonde took over that station. There may have been some initial hissing and growling from the girl.

After a while of operating in silence, she felt a hand gently resting on the tip of her shoulder; more just the fingertips, actually. "Thank you, Rachel."

Honestly, she felt that maybe Quinn was the one deserving of such gratitude for helping clear her mind a little more over her predicament, but Rachel decided to take it in stride anyway in order to avoid any potential conflict, as minor as it would likely be. It was the first moment where she honestly, truly felt as if she had earned the status of being Quinn's friend, and she was a little proud of herself for managing to help her a little bit. "You're very welcome, Quinn."


	4. Chapter 4

The only question circulating through Santana's head that Monday morning was whether she wanted a light breakfast or a filling one. As usual since the 'camping adventure', she'd woken up pretty damn early by her standards, and had a lot of time to kill before school, what with no extra-curriculars and no pressing chores outside of whatever breakfast dishes she'd dirty. Flitting her gaze from the food stocked in her open cupboard, those in the fruit bowl on the counter, and those in the fridge, she decided on settling for a fruit salad. Breakfast had always been one of those meals that she only sometimes craved; some days she'd wake up with the sole thought of getting food into her stomach, whereas on the other days, she'd just consider eating because she knew it was what her body needed. There was rarely any middle ground between that sort of determined hunger and apathy.

The previous morning had been one of hunger, for example, which was good because she'd had three other cooks in the kitchen with her, making all sorts of tasty food. Even outside of the fact that she had all her closest friends with her, it had been pretty special. Quinn had obviously headed up the stovetops, frying bacon and pancakes, while Rachel focused on fruits and Brittany worked the toasters. Even with Rachel and Quinn having eaten earlier, apparently unable to resist their own hunger pangs, it was kind of awesome to just have everyone over for a good long breakfast.

Santana had come to agree with Rachel over the fact that the meal was the most important in the day, but it wasn't just the food, but the people as well, that really got a person's day off on the right foot. Sunday had been pretty great, and even though her friends all left by noon, there really wasn't anything that could have put a damper on her spirits that day.

Rachel was, admittedly, a big part of that. The whole movie night on Saturday had been utterly fantastic, what with Rachel cuddling up to her on the couch, and the whole spooning craziness. Basically spilling to Rachel that the diva was her kind of girl had been pretty damn intimidating and nerve-racking, but it had also been relieving to just get it off her chest. She hadn't really expected anything to come of it.

And it wasn't like there were massive, super visible changes or whatever, but Berry had been a little different the following morning. At first, it all just seemed a little innocent, with Rachel's hand constantly finding the small of her back as Santana maneuvered through the kitchen. That made sense, being on crutches and all, and Rachel being one hell of a worrywart. But then it continued when she was seated for breakfast, the diva's hand always applying this gentle pressure, sometimes rubbing or massaging her back with it.

So after that, Santana started paying closer attention, which really wasn't necessary for most of the stuff, but at that point she was a little intrigued, and her whole crush thing was kind of hanging in the balance, so whatever. It really wasn't anything huge, but when they'd migrated to the living room to watch TV, and she'd petitioned unsuccessfully for Animaniacs, Rachel had told her to put her 'cute pout' away, because it was three against one. Sure, Santana knew her pout had a teensy bit of power behind it, but Rachel calling it cute was pretty awesome. Maybe a little minor, but awesome. And when they'd settled down for a mini-marathon of Darkwing Duck, and Rachel took her hand and held it for a solid hour and a half, well that was pretty kickass too.

Around ten or so, she'd had to go to the washroom, which kind of sucked, because the show was actually kind of decent, and Berry's hand was soft and warm. Still, though, as Santana made her way back to her spot, it was pretty easy to tell that Rachel's appraising eyes weren't just looking thoroughly for new injuries. And that, that was kind of indescribable.

Before, when she'd crawled into that tent soaking wet and naked, Berry had been super skittish and worn out from their walk, all on top of freaking out over the storm. So back then, it was hard to really chalk up the girl's dazed reaction as anything other than simply distracted. But this time, it was a Sunday morning, everyone was sober and relaxed, and Rachel Berry had ogled her a wee bit, which was kind of indescribable. _I mean…fuck, I'm not the best with words, so how do I explain to someone that right then, I felt like my heart was gonna pound out of my chest like some raging beast at the same time that it felt like it was transforming into this gooey molten heat, making even ME feel a little overwhelmingly warm? Like…and that's not even totally accurate, it's just…ugh…words suck…_

But really, while it was frustrating to even translate her feelings into thoughts, she did understand that Rachel looking at her that way made her feel uniquely awesome. Finally, it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Berry could be into her. While one part of her brain wanted to be jaded and say that the third time was the charm, referencing her past romantic endeavours of course, it really was far from true. Rachel honestly shared some common ground with Quinn and Brittany in that they were girls, they had nice teeth, they were all artistically talented in some way, and were gorgeous as hell.

But that's sort of where it ended. Quinn had been her first real crush; Lucy had been amazing with her bookish goofball nature, but when she took on the whole blonde bombshell look, Santana had to admit that Quinn was a damn fine specimen. So Quinn had the brains and the body, and had been her first clue that she was a lady lover. Of course, it didn't take long to learn that the blonde was unwaveringly straight, which even through her own gay panic was both disappointing and expected. Either way, she'd quickly gotten over the mini-crush on Q and embraced their friendship.

Brittany had been her friend long before anything serious happened. In truth, she hadn't really pursued Britt; the girl just wanted to know what kissing another girl was like, which turned into adding more intimacy to their friendship bit by bit. And that was amazing, at least in Santana's eyes, because she was able to explore with someone she felt safe with, someone who did love her, even if the dancer didn't come to love her the same way Santana did. In truth, because hindsight was an accurate bitch, all the signs were there that it wouldn't work out long term, but it didn't change the fact that it did hurt to be rejected by Britt. But it honestly hurt more that Artie put such distance between them, and that they weren't as close of friends as they used to be, intimacy aside. Sweet lady kisses and sex with Brittany had been amazing, but in a way, she'd settled for her. It was Lima, she was a lesbian, and she knew the odds were slim she'd find another willing partner, let alone one she cared deeply for and was willing to keep things on the down low, so she tried to make it work, she wanted to believe they could work. In the end, though, her best friend's curiosity was just that, and once sated, the girl found greener wheelchair-accessible pastures.

Rachel, though, was different. The diva had always inspired a sort of intensity within Santana. Initially, it was a sort of intense abrasion to how annoying Rachel often was through elementary. Seriously, there were classes where the teacher wouldn't get around to teaching anything because Rachel wouldn't stop talking to and asking them questions, and as a secretly inquisitive girl who kind of liked learning, that sucked. That, and Rachel tended to gravitate to this little corner of the playground to practice her vocals during recess, which aggravatingly was right by the swing-sets and where she and Britt would play wall-ball. If Berry had actually sang songs to practice instead of running scales relentlessly, it might have been alright, and she may not have pushed the diva into the sandbox so many times for annoying her.

Needless to say, she hadn't been Rachel's biggest fan in elementary, even though the diva did tend to stay out of their way for the most part, and wouldn't directly approach her and her two friends. And one time, probably on the exact day Rachel went vegan, she gave her turkey sandwich to Brittany, which was kind of nice, too.

High school didn't end up changing much in terms of how she saw Berry; Quinn started a witch-hunt early on in freshman year that lasted through most of sophomore year, really. Like a good friend, Santana supported Q in it, as it wasn't like she really knew or cared about the diva. Even still, she'd occasionally hear the girl practicing her vocals around school, and when Rachel would actually sing instead of running scales, it sometimes put a smile on her face. Okay, it usually put a smile on her face. Rachel's voice was awesome, there was no getting around that; it was spectacular, and she respected the hell out of the diva for it. Santana appreciated excellence, and even if Berry was annoying sometimes and a little crazy, the girl was an excellent singer.

So when Santana had joined glee club, and was exposed to it more often, that was cool. Even though Rachel singing to or about Finn made up, like, fifty percent of the girl's performances, which was gag-worthy. But during the other half, and the more casual group numbers? Those were fun as hell, and Rachel was always able to shamelessly feel the music, even if the song was ridiculous. That, the diva's look and performance during the funk number in sophomore year, and the fact that Rachel believed her during sectionals that year were the main reasons she started quickly shifting her bullying attitude toward Rachel into a sort of indifference.

Honestly, though, it didn't take long for that indifference to shift, because Berry just was all over the place and it made it difficult to be apathetic about anything Rachel did. So Santana would get a little pissy if Berry started going on about the plethora of solos she would have at the next competition, she'd soak up the dramatic fire from the girl's diva-off with Mercedes that just so happened to mimic her favourite scene from RENT, and she'd get frustrated as fuck that Rachel was so romantically clueless during that whole 'pining after Finn' stage. Everything about the diva brought a variety of intense reactions from her, so it wasn't a surprise that ever since they got closer, that intensity had only shifted.

Now, it was as if Rachel was magnetized, and she couldn't keep from gravitating toward her, staring at her, or even talking with her. And it wasn't just a physical pull, even though Rachel had it going on; the soulful mocha eyes, soft chestnut brown hair, cashmere-like skin, absolutely legendary legs, a cute little bubble butt, and a smile that could brighten pretty much anyone with a heart's day were only a few of her prime physical assets. The girl was breathtaking, and while she wasn't the most traditional beauty, she was truly beautiful. Inside, especially; the diva complimented her in a lot of ways that just made things click. Santana only had the heart to care for a few people in her life, while Rachel had a big enough heart to care for everyone and everything, which was both astounding and made Santana want to push herself to find more people to care about, to see what she could handle. Rachel was ambitious, somewhat ruthlessly, but also had an active conscience to keep her from doing anything too cutthroat and selfish for the most part. It reminded Santana of the limits of ambition and the consequences it can have, helping her be more mindful of others. It's not as if she was heartless.

Aside from the physical attributes Santana could spend all morning daydreaming about, or the personality characteristics that she could talk about for hours, there was just this feeling that was fresh and new and unexplainable. It was the automatic upward tug of her lips whenever she saw or heard Berry after being apart, it was this sense of relief and calm whenever they were close. It was how the word home was partially redefined in her mind the second night she laid with Rachel, her arms around the girl's waist, and how it was finalized Saturday night when it was Rachel's arms encircling her body instead. It was this indescribable feeling of hope and security she got whenever the girl invaded her thoughts and dreams. It was the fire she felt throughout her body when the girl spoke her name. And maybe it was foolish to feel so much so fast for a girl that had only shown glimpses of possible attraction to her, but Santana Lopez wasn't one for half-measures, and she was still a teenager; if it didn't work out, there would be others later on, and she'd stay friends with Rachel. She just had a desperate hope that maybe Rachel thought of her the way she thought of Berry.

"Santana? Is everything okay?" She was stirred from her musings by her mother's voice, Santana's eyes darting toward the source of the sound, the worried woman across the island from her.

Her mom had been a little evasive since her hospitalization, and she'd rarely caught a glimpse of her most days; honestly, there were always opportunities at night, but if her mother couldn't find the willpower to see her daughter, Santana decided she didn't have the heart to see her mom. They'd continue this little dance until she looked healthy, where her mom would suddenly be around and talkative again. Honestly, she couldn't help but be a little surprised that her mom had stopped to ask if she was okay, given the crutches resting in sight directly beside her.

"Yeah, just going over some final exam stuff in my head, no biggie." It wasn't the most eloquent or truthful reply, but she knew her mom didn't have time for anything more extensive, given the rather rushed sort of tension coming off the woman in waves through her body language. With her dad gone, her mom worked long hours, something she respected, even if she wished the woman was around more. Santana had grown up a daddy's girl, and when daddy was gone, it became apparent that she and her mother weren't all that close; the excuse to bond from the loss was outright demolished by her mom's decision to work extra hours, as well as the distant behaviour Santana endured from the woman for years afterward.

She couldn't blame her, not really; everyone coped differently, and Santana's decision to severely restrict who she let herself care about was one of them; that her mother did the same and halfway excluded her seemed fair by that standard, if a bit shitty considering they were family. And it wasn't that her mom didn't care for her, she just rarely showed it in any way that was remotely positive or helpful. _So yeah, I still love my mom…we'll never be perfect, but eh, maybe we'll be better when I'm in my twenties and being awesome or something._

Her mom nodded hesitantly before offering a small wave and heading into the garage. It was really all Santana needed as motivation to finish her breakfast and prep for school, knowing that the sooner she aced her finals, the sooner she could kick back and relax. With the school year ending later that week, she could hardly contain her excitement for what the summer would hold now that her life was on an upswing.

* * *

The last week of the school year had started off wonderfully for Rachel Berry, the girl having completed her second last exam of the year early in the day, quite confident in a high grade for her physics class. All that was left was to hand in an English paper she was halfway done proofing and do her AP art history exam on Thursday, and she was done for the year. In a way, Rachel knew she'd very likely miss it, given all that had happened that year, and the new friendships she'd made recently; however, her musical theatre camp had been scheduled back in February, and she couldn't exactly back out at the last second, not when it gave her valuable experience in the form of a full week's worth of performances in Columbus at the end of its run.

So it was bittersweet when she entered the glee club for the third last time of her junior year, patiently watching each fellow gleek stroll in, no one hurrying since it was perfectly standard for Mister Schuester to arrive five minutes late. While she was only a tiny bit disgruntled that Tina and Mike sat on one side of her, and Brittany on the other, it certainly wasn't the worst set-up, and Rachel could draw some happiness from the fact that Santana and Quinn sat with each other nearby, both girls waving to her on the way in.

It was interesting, having two new close friends, and Rachel could only hope that they'd grow closer over the next year; it was especially something of a miracle that Quinn had trusted her with so much the other morning, and she couldn't wait to see what sort of fun they'd all get up to when she got back from camp. Even though she'd be gone a month, Rachel was sure they'd still be able to bond during the remaining time.

After what seemed like ages, Mister Schuester eventually strolled in and settled himself by the whiteboard, scribbling the word 'vent' on it, which seemed a tiny bit dangerous given the drama and lingering issues that could be brought up.

"Hard to believe it's the last week of the school year, but here we are. I'd like to think that we grew toward our goals this year, and grew together…we may not have a championship trophy sitting on the shelf, but we got close this year, and I think we learned a lot." The Spanish teacher stated, earning the occasional muttered responses over what they had learned. Rachel didn't blame people for being upset still over the kiss at nationals; it was regrettable, and she would no longer defend it. "So seeing as we only have three days left of glee this year, I want to hear how you're feeling, where your head's at. I want you to vent, to let go of anything you're still holding onto, so that you can all have a great summer and start fresh in the fall."

Despite the potential intensity of the week's theme, Rachel was fairly excited, and couldn't help but glance over at Santana to gauge her reaction. Her friend seemed pleased enough, though her good hand was lightly touching the bandaged neck wound; it was likely that Santana would have to forgo singing yet again, which she couldn't help but feel bad about. Santana's voice was rather lovely, and she knew the girl had things to get off her chest. That an injury was potentially preventing her was just a little depressing. _Well, maybe if she can't sing, she could trust me to sing for her as a proxy? I think that could be beneficial to both of us, even if it's not particularly ideal._

Rachel sat through surprising solos from Puck and Sam, finding both rather commendable given that neither were the type to regularly perform in glee or take a lead in competitions. It was a nice change of pace, and when Mr. Schuester let them go for the day, she was planning on discussing the possibility of Santana adding to the pattern of underappreciated voices performing in glee. Perhaps in a duet with her, to ease the strain on her close friend's voice, of course.

However, just as she was packed up and out of her seat, Quinn was halfway out the door, dragging Santana away to god knows where. It was a confusing situation, as Quinn hadn't been hanging off Santana all day, and Rachel was certain she and Santana had gotten over any plan to avoid her.

"Hey, Rachie!" Rachel felt as if she would jump out of her skin from the shock of Brittany's cheerful words breaking her thought process, as well as how stealthy the blonde had been in sidling so close to her.

She took a breath to calm herself and shot her bubbly friend a smile, deciding to push away the disappointment of missing out on Santana. "Hello, Brittany. How may I help you?"

The blonde hopped back and forth on each foot excitedly before pulling a container out of her backpack, filled with what looked to be halved grapes, birdseed and cracked corn. "Wanna go to the pond and feed the ducks with me? I'd normally ask San, but Quinn's taking her to learn the secrets of bacon." The chipper girl asked, practically radiating excitement. Rachel honestly wasn't sure what exactly made the blonde love those waterfowl so much, but she figured it would likely be an unsolved mystery.

It only took a few moments to mentally skim her daily schedule, and once she realized it was free of any real time-sensitive appointments, she gave her friend a nod and followed her out of the choir room. There were certainly worse ways to spend a late spring afternoon than at a pond, in the company of a good friend, and while preparing for the next year's nationals was certainly a good idea, it was unlikely that her hard work would be utilized by the curly haired facilitator.

The ride to the pond was brief, and soon, she found herself perched on Brittany's favourite log, with a surprising amount of ducks waddling out of the water to gather nearby for food. It was a surprisingly calming experience, watching the little birds waddle up to the blonde for some snacks, and to hear Brittany talk to them about everyday things, and refer to them by name. Sure, it didn't make complete sense, but it was relaxing, and she felt lighter for it.

Once most of the ducks had waddled their way back to the waters after their feeding, Britt scooted over closer to Rachel on the log and gave her a little nudge, bringing her attention away from the park's flowers and the calm waters. "Thanks for talking to Artie." The blonde noted quietly, her hand still outstretched and holding food for the last three ducks. "San helped when she came out and said she, like, wasn't into me, but you were cool in helping me hang out with you, San and Quinn more."

Rachel smiled sadly at her friend, feeling happy that things had gotten smoothed over, but not so happy that it had been required. "You never needed Artie's permission, Brittany."

"I know. I just didn't want anyone to be sad over me." Brittany ducked her head as she spoke, watching the final three ducks waddle back home. "People get intense about so much stuff and I just can't really handle that."

Rachel watched the blonde wipe her hand off on the log and fiddle with her fingers nervously. "You've never liked conflict."

Brittany nodded in response, a small frown curling at her lips. "I like happier things, and conflict just makes me sad, and people get sad too. It's why it was so hard being with San."

Rachel couldn't help but smile a little at the thought of the other girl; Santana most certainly attracted conflict. It just seemed to be in her nature. "Santana can be something of a fire starter like that."

"No. It's just…" Brittany let out a sigh as she took a moment to gather her words, looking out at the pond and the swarm of happy little ducklings swimming around. "I loved San…but not the way she needed me to. We were always better as friends, but it was really hard to say no to her." The blonde finished sadly, prompting Rachel to sling an arm around Brittany's shoulders, hugging her closer.

"She…she didn't coerce you into anything, did she?" Rachel asked, hoping desperately that there was another reason for why it was difficult for her friend to say no. She really liked Santana, but if the girl had sexually assaulted Brittany, that would change. At the sight of Brittany looking entirely confused, she decided to clarify her wording. "She didn't force you to do anything you didn't want to, did she?"

The blonde shook her head fervently. "No, no. San was…at the start, she liked to pretend we weren't doing anything, but later on she was super sweet to me, and we'd have a lot of fun, but I didn't feel the same, and…and San was just like most girls, I guess." Brittany answered, though her words required a bit of thought from Rachel to decipher. She could understand Santana being initially defensive, especially if the girl hadn't been fully comfortable at the time with what they'd been doing. The last bit of Britt's words, however, simply eluded her.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, giving the blonde a little squeeze and taking one of her free hands in her own.

"She just…she just wanted to feel wanted and loved, and to be, like, touched. And to feel good." Brittany noted quietly, sniffing back her emotion as Rachel blushed at the imagery in her mind of Santana feeling 'good' through touch. "It's why I still did things with her when she asked, even when I was with Artie. I just wanted her to be happy, and she was super lonely, and I wanted to fix that. But I'm not who she needed…I liked doing stuff with her, but I didn't want to do it forever. Even if she IS my BFF. It wasn't wrong, us being super close like that, but it wasn't right. And she always got really sad when I'd tell her that."

Rachel hugged Brittany a little closer and took a moment to consider her words; she'd had some suspicions that the two had been rather active behind Artie's back, but hearing it be confirmed was another matter. She knew she'd have to have a talk with Santana later on about the notion of fidelity, but she did understand how desperate a person could feel for romance and affection, and she'd been glad to find some with Finn. Being a closeted lesbian would only be exponentially more difficult, and while she still frowned upon the reality of both girls cheating on Artie, she could at least understand why both did so.

"I can only imagine the difficulty when she was having flings with some boys at school, just wanting to feel something positive." Rachel mused, unsure how hard it must have been for Santana to try and find something wonderful in people she felt nothing for. To feel wounded over something that was supposed to feel comforting and amazing.

Brittany tensed in her arms, cringing at her words. "San never liked doing that. It only happened a few times, and she'd always run back to me or Q after, and she'd be so sad, Rachel. Like, the saddest. Not even my hugs would cheer her up. Not…not even sweet lady kisses." The blonde answered, sniffing and wiping her face as she gently broke away from Rachel's grasp. "But you could totes make San happy, Rachel. Like, super happy, I'm sure of it!"

Rachel recoiled slightly from Britt's sudden enthusiasm, wondering how the girl could go from crying sad tears to cheerful glee within a second or two. "What…what do you mean, Brittany?"

"You like San, right? Like, you like-like her?" The blonde asked with wide-eyed excitement, grabbing hold of both of Rachel's hands and giving them a little shake.

She couldn't help but blush at being caught; Brittany was much too good at reading people to not see through her lies. She'd always been a terrible liar. "I do have a crush of sorts on Santana, yes, but I'm not sure it's a good idea to do anything about it until I'm fully certain about how I feel."

Britt's blue-eyed gaze pierced her own for numerous long, difficult seconds, the blonde staring confusedly at her all the while until she finally nodded. "You're a lot smarter than me."

"Brittany, no…" Rachel began, but her words were halted by the blonde tugging them both up to their feet and embracing the diva in a hug.

"I probably would have just gone and did stuff. I'm not much of a long-term thinky type. But you…you're making sure you really, really like Santana before being with her, so none of you get hurt?" Britt asked with a nearly overwhelming amount of hope in her words, which was a bit difficult to digest. It was one thing to think it, but a whole different thing to hear someone else clarify her approach to the situation out loud. She really did want to make certain that they both were on the same page with each other before diving in headfirst.

Rachel let out a sigh and nodded, knowing there was no hiding from the blonde; she could only hope that Britt could keep from spilling to Santana about it all before either of them were ready. She quickly found herself in a vice-grip hug from the taller girl, who was all too happy to lift her off the ground and swing her back and forth. "I'm so happy! And super happy you'll be hang out with us all summer, too!"

As Britt lowered her back to the ground, though, she had to stifle her grimace, knowing that she'd ultimately be the bearer of bad news. "I'm happy to spend more time with you all as well, Brittany but…I'm not going to be around ALL summer long. Just most of it."

* * *

Santana was a little pissed off at the world, and rightfully so. Everywhere she looked, whenever it came to what she wanted to do, or who she wanted to see, there were obstacles. Finals period had basically torn Quinn and Brittany's attentions toward studying, and while Rachel had been able to make some time for her, the mixture of extracurricular classes and studying hadn't given them many opportunities to spend time together. Additionally, glee had been tremendously frustrating, what with her neck not healed enough for her to risk singing without injury. Sure, listening to Rachel sing had been amazing, and both Quinn and Britt had surprised them all with a group number including Mike's dancing skills, but she'd wanted to sing. She'd wanted to express herself, and that goal fell flat on its face.

The worst thing of all, though was hearing from Brittany on Thursday, the last day of finals period, that Rachel was leaving for some music theatre camp for a month that coming Saturday. It had given her barely any time to figure out what the hell to do, and wonder why the hell Rachel hadn't told her about the camp. Sure, it wasn't necessarily her business, per se, but it would have been cool to know that she wouldn't be able to spend her first weekend free of school with all her friends. Especially with her being told she'd be able to get off her crutches that Sunday afternoon.

In short, it all sucked. Outside of a brief bacon-themed workshop with Quinn on Monday that was mostly just an excuse to get some free food and time to gossip, she hadn't really seen much of her friends all week. And she'd had finals through the end of Friday, where Quinn and Rachel had finished on Thursday, s she hadn't even had the chance to see them at school, given Berry had decided it was a reasonable excuse to stay home and recuperate. And, as she later came to the conclusion, pack.

Ever since their botched excursion into the wilderness, she and Rachel had been really close, and while it didn't hurt that Berry was keeping things like that from her, it did let Santana know that maybe she was more invested than Rachel was in their friendship.

The camp was out in Cleveland, and what she'd heard from Brittany had Rachel leaving bright and early Saturday morning, so Santana spent all Friday night preparing herself mentally and, at least somewhat, physically for what she felt she had to do. Quinn's encouraging words rang in her head as she formulated her plan.

At five o'clock on Saturday morning, Santana quietly left her home, forgoing the crutches but still being pretty easy on her bad leg in the meantime. Re-injuring it would only mess with her ability to enjoy summer even more than her injuries already were.

At five-thirty, she was outside Rachel's window, and by about five-forty she had a small object to throw at it and the ladder from Berry's backyard shed. After the first two small objects did nothing to gain Rachel's attention, Santana slowly made her way up the ladder to the window, giving two simple knocks.

Barely a moment later, a light filled Rachel's room, and about five seconds later the window was pulled open, a bleary-eyed Berry looking out at the yard below with confusion.

"I guess I probably…" Santana started, before Rachel shrieked and recoiled, hitting the back of her head on the window in her shock. "…woke you. Sorry, Rach, are you okay?" she added sheepishly as Rachel rubbed the back of her head with a sad frown etched on her face. The girl nodded slowly and opened her window fully, silently gesturing her to come in as she stepped away from the sill.

Santana carefully slid into the girl's room, realizing that it was the first time she'd ever really been in there. She'd seen it in the background of the occasional Skype chat, but that was really it. As she looked around, she smiled at how it held that Rachel Berry charm; a little cutesy and tacky, but it oozed Rachel's personality.

"You know, Santana…I do have a phone that is quite operational." The diva noted softly as she plopped down onto the edge of her bed, Santana cautiously following suit and sitting beside her.

She reached out a hand and felt the back of her friend's head, noticing the already swelled bump there with a frown of her own. "I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly." She answered, though in truth she had. A phone call could get her held away at arm's length, but a personal visit to her window was more likely to get her a private audience. Santana pulled the girl closer and kissed the bump, knowing it wouldn't truly make a difference, but she just wanted Rachel to know she was sorry, and she didn't mean for her to get hurt.

"Anyway, not trying to be rude, but it's just short of six in the morning, Santana. Why are you here?" Rachel asked, a faint smile on her lips letting her know it wasn't an entirely unwelcome visit. So at least there was that to take away from it all.

"I heard you're skipping town for a while, and I wanted to see you before you left." Santana answered truthfully, having recited the answer at least seventy times the previous night. Heck, considering that she hadn't even slept yet, she wasn't sure if her rehearsal had truly been done solely at night, her last time happening around four-thirty. "I'm gonna miss you." She added with a half shrug, after a few seconds of silence from the diva.

"And I'll miss you, Santana." Rachel noted quietly, one of her soft, warm hands taking hold of Santana's. "I'm sorry for not telling you about this earlier. I suppose it must have come as a surprise."

"Don't apologize, I'm not your keeper. I'm sure you had your reasons, which is why I won't be here long. Just…this camp is gonna help you, right?" She asked, looking into Rachel's warm, inviting brown eyes for the obvious answer to her question. Of course it'd help Rachel. The girl lived for those things, probably.

"It will. And it'll only last twenty eight days." Rachel stated confidently, making it quite clear that this was good for her, that it was necessary. Which, really, was expected, but Santana liked seeing Rachel pumped up for it.

"Four weeks isn't that long, I guess." Santana added with a grin, giving Rachel's hand a squeeze, hopefully showing the girl that she was on board with the idea completely. "But…look, I wanted to sing in glee, but my throat's too messed up. I hoped that in a week, or maybe two, I would have been able to at least return the favour of you singing to me twice, lately."

Rachel shifted on the bed, angling herself to better face Santana, her free hand clasping down on top of their joined hands. "San, it's okay. I wanted to sing for you, and I was happy to do so. You don't need to sing something for me, I don't want you getting hurt."

Santana exhaled sharply through her nose and rolled her eyes. "I know, I know, you worrywart, but it isn't okay. I have a song I need to sing, and even if I can only sing it quietly, I have to before you go. I can't wait four weeks."

Singing the song was enough of a weight on Santana's chest at the moment, making every beat of her heart ache until that pressure was released. There was simply no way she'd be able to look at Rachel at the same time, so she just held Rachel's hand a little tighter, and focused on Rachel's RENT poster on the wall across from her.

"Give me a moment to try and explain it, and how it's changed, the girl that I am. Life has a way, when you try to arrange it. Of making a fool of the best laid plans." Santana sang quietly, knowing her song choice probably wasn't the most traditional, but she'd had a hard time finding songs that barely mentioned love, or focused too much on what the other person in the equation needed to do. She didn't want to pressure Rachel, she didn't want to escalate this too high and hurt what they had, and she didn't want to sing anything that wasn't true. It was hard to find a love song that fit the bill with those stipulations, at least one that wasn't sexual, and she'd ultimately had to make a few minor alterations. Once again, she'd found herself dipping into the song catalogues of country music, which she wasn't a stranger to by any stretch, but she didn't like making a habit of pigeonholing herself.

"Yes, what I'm trying to say is you took me by surprise. One word is all that it takes, and together's on my mind…it happens every time…" Santana continued to croon softly, finding a little courage from Rachel's hand squeezing hers. "I hear the sweetest sound, my world stops turning 'round, like I'm on holy ground when you call my name. It sets the sky on fire, burning with my desire… stronger, deeper, higher when you call my name."

And it was true; whenever Rachel called out for her, there would be this storm of awesome emotions roll through her, from her chest outward. Santana wasn't going to deny that she had a pretty serious crush on Rachel, or that the girl could melt her heart with a single word. No, she wanted to put it out there, and let Rachel know how she felt, because maybe it was too early, maybe Rachel wouldn't feel the same, but she had grown. She was braver now, stronger now since Brittany, and she just wanted Rachel to know how she felt about her. Sure, she hoped she hadn't misread Rachel, she hoped this wouldn't push them further apart, or that Rachel had been avoiding her all week due to getting too close too fast, but she knew there wasn't a promise that it'd work out.

"The way that it moves me is simply amazing, yes somehow it seems much bigger than words. When you call my name, angels start singing…the second prettiest sound that I've ever heard. And it starts all over again, this feeling deep inside, a crazy chain of events, my heartbeat's realigned, it happens every time…" She sang, finding the inner strength to finish up a little early, really not feeling up for singing the chorus more than one more time. "I hear the sweetest sound, my world stops turning 'round, like I'm on holy ground when you call my name. It sets the sky on fire, burning with my desire…stronger, deeper, higher, when you call my name."

Santana waited a beat before braving a turn of her head toward Rachel's gaping mouth and wide eyes, a storm of unspoken words and indiscernible emotions raging within them. "When you call my name." She finished, offering Rachel's hand another squeeze and taking a well deserved calming breath to steady her for whatever response would follow her little closing spiel. "I know this might seem sudden or whatever…I just needed you to know before you left."

They sat there silently on the bed for a little while, the rustle of leaves outside being enough of a distraction for Santana as she waited for something, anything from Rachel.

"Santana…" Rachel eventually choked out, and while she'd heard a lot of happy tearful speeches from the diva, she could tell this wouldn't be one of them. She could just tell. Even if she really wanted to hope, even if hearing her name cross Berry's lips was practically magical, it wasn't going to be the sort of response she'd hoped dearly for. "I don't know what to say."

Santana gently recaptured her hand from Rachel's grasp, taking a moment to swallow her emotions and steady her voice. "You don't need to say anything. I'm the one who couldn't wait four weeks to tell you, and you've got a big trip today, and a camp to prepare for, so don't feel like you have to say anything, okay?" She asked rhetorically as she stood up from the bed and glanced at the window. "It's just after six, so you should get to it, I won't keep you."

With that, she took steps toward the window, mentally planning where to go next, because home would mean running into her mom and explaining to her where she'd been so early, and why she'd left her crutches at home. Brittany wouldn't be up yet to watch cartoons, as that tradition started at eight-thirty. Quinn would sleep until eleven most Saturdays, unless there were previous plans. The Lima Bean had a comfy couch, and because it was a Saturday, there'd be low traffic and tasty drinks. That was probably the best bet.

As she reached for the window frame for balance, a hand clasped around her forearm. "San, wait." Rachel pleaded softly, stepping into her personal space, and she honestly really didn't have the emotional energy to go through an explanation about a rejection. She really didn't, so she turned toward the diva and engulfed her in a tight hug for one last time for the next few weeks.

"You're gonna be amazing, so knock'em dead, Rach." She whispered as she separated from the smaller girl, offering her the best smile she could muster at the moment. "See you later."

And with that, Santana put all her energy into slipping out the window as fast as possible, practically sliding down the ladder in the act. It kind of aggravated her bad leg a little, but she walked it off, quickly returning the ladder and finding her way away from the Berry residence, knowing that the next four weeks would probably suck a hell of a lot, but she'd manage. She always did.

She'd just do so without Rachel and her having cute little Skype sessions all the time, or whatever. That definitely wasn't anything she could handle right then, but it wasn't like she planned on getting over Berry yet. The girl hadn't really reacted, and she'd basically left before Rachel could properly respond to her; Santana's instincts had told her it would have been disappointing, so she'd sped out of there fast, but without a real answer, there was still a little hope.

Sure, maybe Q had been wrong about everything in telling her they both had seen how Rachel had been around her, and that Berry was feeling something for her, but if so she clearly hadn't lost a friend. She still had Rachel in her life, so there wasn't TOO much to get disappointed about.

Besides, a lot could change in a month. She, after all, was proof of that much.


	5. Chapter 5

Please write me.

Those three words had popped onto her phone screen not five minutes after she'd gotten back home from Rachel's. It was the only message she'd gotten from the diva that day, leaving her without a freaking clue of what to write to Berry about, but it was something. It was Rachel reaching out to her. Sure, a part of her had wanted to know what Rachel had wanted to tell her back in her room; over the phone it would have hurt much less if it was bad, and it would have still been pretty great if it was better than that, but she'd taken those three words to heart, and after figuring out where Berry's music theatre camp was, she'd quickly penned a letter and sent it off.

It was kind of weird that three simple words led to so much, considering Rachel was the blabbermouth of the both of them, but the process brought Santana back to those days in the forest together. That nervous energy, that isolation, that companionship and quickly forged trust in those final days. It felt, even at her computer desk and writing it out, like she was back on a fallen log by a campfire, getting pegged in the head with Rachel's dried apricots, having an awkward heart to heart. But the whole thing got easier with each note, and while Rachel rarely responded with anything but her usual essay-long responses with careful wording, it kept her motivated and hopeful.

Perhaps, as she mailed off what would likely be her final letter before Rachel's return, she would learn soon enough whether or not Berry was happy being friends, or if she would be open to more. After all, she spoke and she wrote; the ball was in Rachel's court.

* * *

_Rachel,_

_So, hey. You told me to write, and I am. I'll be honest, I don't know what I'm writing about, but I'll just keep up with what I've been doing. I mean, I put myself out there, right? Can't exactly pretend that didn't happen. So I'll just slay the elephant in the proverbial room here (sorry if that rankles your vegan sensibilities)._

_I know I probably confused you that morning. I really got a bit ahead of myself and panicked in the end, and you didn't deserve a sendoff like that. And you didn't deserve the bump on your head either, so I'm sorry about that too. But is it bad that I don't really regret it all? I mean, there's remorse, but…I just wanted to see you before you left._

_Anyway, I hope you're settling in well at camp. Can't say I see the point, since you're gonna throttle them all with your insane skills, but hey, I guess it's practice, and it's needed to keep you where you're at. I can respect that, and I hope it's at least fun and not a huge stress or anything. At least this camp doesn't sound like it has wolves, so that's a plus._

_So yeah, sorry for being a little crazy. I hope we can keep in touch._

_Sincerely,_

_Santana_

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_Camp has been predictably boring so far, although my favourite vocal coach is here this year again, which is a big plus. I think my exuberance may 'rankle' him but I do think he's grown to find me at least endearing. Which helps in that he consistently uses me as an example when discussing technique, despite actively loathing everyone. That someone with such a disdain for life would rank me highest already based on skill and probably intangibles is confidence-inducing. And honestly, so is you saying I'm going to 'throttle' everyone. Thank you, it means a lot to have you believing in me._

_As to the matter of what happened in my room, it's perfectly fine, Santana. It's not bad that you aren't regretful. Perhaps you weren't the most tactful or graceful, but your heart was in the right place, and it was really nice to see you before I left, even if I wasn't going to leave until around nine thirty that morning. I was actually planning to call you before I went. You just caught me off guard, and while I am a morning person, I tend to need to wake organically to be fully functioning. If you're interested in why that is, read up on circadian rhythm. As it stands, I really do want to talk to you about it all, but I'd much rather do it in person instead of on paper. There are just certain things that I feel need to be said face to face. Is that alright?_

_If I can leave you with some questions, and feel free not to answer any you don't wish to, but_

_-What are your plans for this next month?  
-Will you rejoin the Cheerios in the fall?_

_Hoping you're faring well,_

_Rachel Berry *_

* * *

_Rachel,_

_Sorry to hear camp's boring, but hey, at least you've got a coach that appreciates you. That's reassuring. And you're welcome, you know I have your back._

_I'm glad to hear I didn't freak you out or anything. I might have had that on my mind for a while, so yeah, that's a relief. I can wait until you get back to talk about it, if you need to clear the air face to face, I'm good for that. I can be patient, even if it might mean I annoy Q-ball a bit more often in the meanwhile._

_I'm not sure what I'll be doing really. Healing, I guess. My leg's doing better, and I should be healed up by the time you get back, at least with my leg and neck, but my arm will probably still be a little messed up. Small price to pay, though it means I probably won't be spending much time tanning or swimming for a bit. Netflix it is, ha ha. Well, that, and I'll finish the carving from our trip, and practice some glee stuff like singing and dancing. I mean, we gotta win our senior year, Rach. I'm not spending my summer sitting around waiting to improve when I can just do it, you know?_

_As for the Cheerios, I'm not sure. It really depends on how me being out changes things. If I need the squad as a sort of defense, then I will. But really, I don't want to be a pro cheerleader. Their scholarships to college barely pay for a book or two, so it's kind of a dead end. Why not focus on something that could lead to something bigger, and something I like, right? I know you told me in the forest that I needed to look after myself too, and maybe if I had enough of an open schedule, I'd have time for it. Who knows?_

_Could I ask you some questions, too? Maybe make this a bit of quid pro quo? You don't have to, it's cool, I just find I don't mind writing things down and everything. Makes things easier than face to face, at least with some things._

_-Is your camp running some sort of play or performance at the end?_  
-Did you finish the first season of BSG yet?  
-What's your favourite flower?

_Thinking of you,_

_Santana_

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_I would like to amend my enthusiasm for my guest vocal coach, as yesterday he said I was sharp at the start of the initial chorus of Whitney Houston's classic "How Will I Know", which is certifiably FALSE. I now question his hearing, which is unfortunate. Perhaps he just had a build-up of ear wax that made him make such a horrid accusation against me, and once cleared he'll be able to hear me performing that song note for note and certainly NOT sharp._

_With that now stated on the record, I must request that you not tease Quinn too much. However, if you tease her at a normal rate while spending more time with her, I don't think I could reasonably complain. With me not around to hog up your free time, I think it would be great for you and Quinn and Brittany to truly reconnect and be a new and improved version of your 'unholy trinity'. Say hi to them for me? And wish them well? I'd tell you to inform you they could write me back as well, but I got a hand-made postcard from Brittany yesterday, and a brief correspondence from Quinn the day before, so if you're responsible for that, thank you. It was an unexpected, but happy, surprise!_

_It's good to hear you're on schedule for your recovery. Small price or not, I still have nightmares about that. Please just take care of yourself and don't rush the healing process. Spending that time improving your voice as well is a wonderful idea, though please leave the dancing until your leg can handle it. Please._

_And yes, we WILL win this year. I already have a full binder of plans at home for every competitive stage we'll conquer. This is our year, Santana! I hope your initiative rubs off on the others, though. Despite my confidence in our eventual victory, we could really do with improvements to the other gleeks' techniques as well to make it all less of an ordeal._

_Cheerios or not, you will have myself, Brittany and Quinn supporting you, as well as most of the gleeks, I would imagine. It will all be fine, trust me, and if you could will yourself to shift some of your intense focus to your own ambitions for a little while each week, I would be proud. I know how much you care about us, but you matter too, and that means you having a direction by the end of senior year would make us all quite happy. Emotional blackmail or not, I'm sticking to those guns, because I care about you._

_I am happy to answer any questions, Santana, I think it could give me some much needed excitement at the end of the day. The old TV in the room I share with three others really is all I have for entertainment, and the DVD player is regularly in use by Tiffany, who is veritably obsessed with Grey's Anatomy, and has hidden the remote somewhere I predict would be considered unmentionable, or at least terrifyingly unsanitary._

_There isn't a group performance at the end, just different types of solos we work up to performing. Private, sadly, so I can't invite others to come and watch. Otherwise, I would have tickets for you, my fathers, Brittany and Quinn, and perhaps Kurt and Blaine._

_I did! I watched the finale the night before I left, and it was fantastic! I promised Quinn I would re-watch it with her (and hopefully with you as well, and Brittany if she feels up to it) when I get back, so she can catch my reactions and everything. Though, given how focused she was on the show last time, I doubt she'd decide to watch me over the show. Either way, I'd be happy to settle in on your couch again for the finale and a bit of season two, if that sounds up your alley? You WERE an effective way to block out all the scary and tense moments. Plus, after being away for so long it'd be nice to be close to you again._

_My favourite flower? Call me typical, but I truly do love roses. Although I also love tulips, and sunflowers, and daffodils. And stargazer lilies, of course!_

_Since it's now my turn,_

_-What was your favourite moment during our weekend together in the wilderness?  
-What's your favourite scent?_

_Best wishes,_

_Rachel Berry*_

* * *

_Rachel,_

_The only time I've heard you go sharp was when your throat was messed up, so I hope he gets his crap together. Fast._

_Yeah, I figured you could use some more mail, and they were happy to oblige. Want me to bug Kurt about it too? Anyway, the blondes are doing awesome, though Britt managed to get a bit sunburnt from being out all day yesterday with her sister, and forgetting to toss on sunscreen. So our little trinity has been hanging out indoors since, which is fine by me because: air conditioning. Been hot as hell outside this week, and not being able to tan without looking ridiculous, that heat's just not worth it._

_I guess you must have talked to Q about things, because she's been on my ass about making sure my leg heals up right, and that I don't do anything dumb. Which I guess I should thank you for, even if it IS annoying for blondie to fuss over me so much. Girl's happy to prop my leg up on a pillow but she won't go get me my salsa from the fridge when we're watching movies. Not cool._

_Anywho, Q and B are on board with prepping for glee a little this summer. Even if it just ends up with us three having a choreographed thing ready for the first day back, to make the others super mindful that they're falling behind. Which should get people to pull their crap together, I figure._

_Tiffany sounds…like an adventure. It's too bad I won't be able to see your solos, but I guess the silver lining is I won't ever have to encounter Tiffany. Not too much longer now, anyway. A little over a week left 'til you're back and maybe a few extra hours before we're all on my couch finishing the first season of BSG together. And like last time, the space beside me is all yours unless you say otherwise, estrella. Quinn's found someone who's willing to custom make a bunch of balloons for the event, so…yeah, I'm not real sure what to expect from that, but Q-ball's always making things interesting. And Britt bought a big bulk bag of pop-corn kernels, though I'm not sure how to tell her yet that we're never going to need four pounds of them._

_My favourite moment from that weekend? Saturday night, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because you let me help you feel better, and that was really huge for me. I know you were really freaked out about the storm, and being stranded out there with me, and missing your home, and even though you were scared, you let me. And it worked, and that was … yeah. Definitely my favourite moment of that night. Though, there were some other moments that were nice, too._

_Favourite scent? As much of an outdoorsy sort of girl I've been, I like fruity scents and ones that supposedly smell like the ocean. I like how fresh rain smells in spring, too. Hard to really choose one, sorry._

_I guess my questions for you are:_

_\- What's your favourite celebration food?  
\- What are your plans for the rest of the summer?_

_Wishing you well,_

_Santana_

* * *

_Dear Santana,_

_Why Santana, it sounds as if you're planning on buttering me up when I get back with some delicious food. Honestly, it'd be difficult to just choose one. Jolly Ranchers are always nice for a treat, and they're readily available. Homemade peppermint patties are also lovely. And sometimes as a rare treat, I order myself some dark chocolate, but honestly, after having to endure the camp's fairly limited vegan food selection, just about anything that's not a pre-packaged salad would light up my life._

_My guest coach had to leave yesterday due to illness, so I'm sure he must have some sort of ear infection. I'm sure he'll recover quickly and eventually amend his suggestion that I was sharp. You know how determined I can be when it comes to exposing people to my talent, after all!_

_Oh no, poor Brittany! Please give her a gentle, careful hug for me, I know you and Quinn and her family are probably taking perfectly good care of her, but I wish I could be there to offer some support too. I understand you don't actually enjoy the show, but maybe you could watch some Rocket Robin Hood with her? I'm sure that would make her week._

_Yes, I did convince Quinn that it was very important that you recovered properly and didn't push yourself and cause yourself more injury. Not that I think it's likely, but I do worry, Santana. Not so much about dip, but about you. However, if it makes you feel any better, I've sent Quinn a note asking about the salsa. Or maybe you two can negotiate?_

_You had me at choreographed number! Honestly, it's just thrilling to even think of what glee will be like this year! And to hear you three plan on starting it off with a bang…I may have to use your number to light a fire under the rest of the club and accent the type of growth I'll be expecting this year from everyone. Oh, this is so exciting!_

_Tiffany actually is an adventure. I don't believe she's showered since she got to camp, and that has her smelling worse than we did during our weekend excursion. However, she has possibly the most thorough dental hygiene regimen I've ever witnessed from another person, which is entirely confusing given her lack of other hygiene-based interests. She also smuggled in a box of red wine which she hoarded to herself one night. The dorm smelled of it for a day and a half! Underage drinking is illegal, and I had to live with the possibility of her getting caught and setting me up for the fall, which was quite stressful._

_I can't believe it's only five days until I get back home. Is it strange that I miss Lima? Or, well, maybe not the whole town. Maybe just the best parts. And the best people, of course. It'll be good to get home to see you, and my dads, and everyone. Speaking of my dads, they know of you, but truly do want to invite you to dinner one night to get to know you better, and while I know my fathers are trouble a hundred percent of the time, they do mean well. And not that it has to be said, but I would also like your company at dinner sometime soon as well, so if you could let me know if you would be okay with it, and when would be best for you?_

_As for the rest of my plans for the summer, I'm not sure. It's all very much up in the air at the moment, and I'm sure I'll figure all the specifics out soon enough, but in general, I'd like to spend the summer with the people close to me. I'll be open to suggestions when I get back, though, so I do expect to hear some ideas of how best to pass the time, Santana._

_I doubt I'll have time to write another letter after this, with rehearsals and my fathers driving me back after my performance that morning, or that our lovely postal service would be able to deliver me return mail in time to actually receive it, so I hope you're doing well, Santana, and I can't wait to see you again when I get back._

_Missing you terribly,_

_Rachel Berry*_

* * *

Rachel practically leapt into her fathers' arms when they arrived to take her home. In the past, the isolation of the music theatre camp had brought her excitement and solace and a true sense of progress. This time around, however, the time had crept agonizingly slow, leaving her nights restless and her days long and lonely.

She blamed that fateful weekend for it all. Without the trauma she'd endured, she wouldn't feel the loss of her parents so much. It was as if each day away from them had her back into that period of flux where she couldn't have been certain she'd ever be able to return. Logically, it was just a performance camp lasting close to a month, and her brain was able to process that, but her heart was immune. She felt that distance with every breath she took and it was truly a rending sadness that, had she not been so skilled at maintaining composure in public, would have led to a number of minor breakdowns around her peers during her stay.

Instead, she'd cry at night and think about the comfort of mornings at home, with her fathers' homemade waffles and their warm hugs, their family game nights Hiram would always cheat at, and their playful bickering. It was so much better than her hard bunk at camp and mostly terrible roommates.

But then in the moments right before misery overtook her, her brain would shift, restless as it tended to be, and would remember caring dark eyes with a depth of browns that was honestly staggering. She would remember the soft, careful touch of strong, tan hands brushing over her waist before settling in, and how that comforting pressure had felt like warm rays of sun on her body in the midst of that stormy night. She remembered words which had once spilled nervously against her ear smooth over her soul and drown out the thunder. She remembered lips kissing a four letter word against her goose prickled skin, letting her know she was safe. And with all those memories flooding her mind each night, leaving her to weakly grasp a few hours of productive sleep at a time, she couldn't help but wish for Santana to be there with her, kissing a different, perhaps more intense four letter word onto her like a tattoo that only she would be able to see and feel.

Absence truly did make the heart grow fonder, and what she felt for her fathers was enduring and strong, often causing her emotions to crest through the days at camp as she rotated between missing them terribly and feeling inspired by their support.

But Santana was another beast, of sorts. Since returning from their weekend escapade, she had suffered some minor bouts of loneliness when it came to the other girl, such as when Santana avoided her that one Thursday before lunch. Being apart from Santana for nearly a month resulted in a far more intense longing, and she swore her heartbeat was like sonar, searching endlessly for someone who wouldn't show, feeling every returning sound wave like her heart was being squeezed for all it was worth.

The letters had truly helped, and that she received regular updates from Brittany and Quinn as well had been utterly delightful, but it was Santana's awkward scrawl that she'd return to at night when she had difficulties sleeping. It was her memories of her crush that would set her at ease enough for her restless mind to calm down, recalling those fleeting memories of Santana protecting her throughout the night during their weekend adventure. And when Santana had noted that one thundery night as her favourite moment, just for being able to help comfort her, it was as if she could feel every cell of blood thrumming through her entire body.

Rachel was sure the feeling wouldn't have been so surprising had she not basically just gone cold turkey for a month without her family and friends, but she made her bed with her decision to remain committed to camp. A camp which was finally over now.

Her arms looped around her fathers joyfully as they hugged her within an inch of her life, feeling massive relief at her freedom and being able to spend the rest of her summer around all of her favourite people. Had she the oxygen in her lungs to sigh happily about it all, she would have, but her fathers had seen to it that her lungs were particularly empty during their show of affection.

Eventually, the hug ended, and she was led back to the new Prius they had taken a lease out on two weeks ago; it was a metallic indigo that looked radiant under the clear, sunny sky, and it only had her feeling better about going home, given the vehicle's familiarity, and that she'd be in the back seat instead of the driver's.

As she slid into the vehicle and got herself settled, she noticed her father Hiram lean in his seat to look at her, his hands holding a white envelope. "Miss Lopez dropped this off for you last night, during America's Got Talent. By the time the commercial break hit, she was long gone and this was stuck to our door." He stated, his slightly gravelly tone lilting in spots, enough to clue Rachel into the fact that while her father looked unimpressed, he was also at least a little amused. "You know, you can tell her we don't bite. So long as you've forgiven her, that's good enough for me."

Rachel shook her head slightly as she reached out a hand to take the envelope. "I think she knows that, or most of it, but it's likely she's simply following my request that we all meet for dinner soon so you both can meet her properly. I may have mentioned your hopes in my last letter and added that I'd like to be present as well."

LeRoy, who slid into the driver's seat midway through Rachel's explanation, simply nodded. "Well, so long as she does come to dinner sometime soon, I'm happy. I know ever since her father passed, things have been difficult at their home, and given your friendship, a dinner is the least we can offer."

It was odd that the puzzle pieces hadn't clicked together until then for Rachel, but suddenly a lot of Santana's words and her experiences at Santana's made sense. She'd wondered if he was still in the equation by how the girl talked about him and the things they used to do together, but nothing had been explicitly stated in words, or in noteworthy use of past tense, so she'd simply chalked it up as a mystery.

"What happened to him, anyway?" She asked, trying not to sound too nosy about it all, even if she really did want to know. Santana didn't have many people in her life, and Rachel couldn't imagine how hard it must have been to lose him.

"Cancer." LeRoy stated thickly, eyes darting away from her back to the windshield. Rachel knew that her father had at least been acquaintances with him, given the amount of times Mr. Lopez would be brought up in his work stories over the years. "Not a lot of people knew about it. Some of us thought he was a little sick over his last few months, but one day he just got admitted, and not long after that he was gone. He was a good man."

Rachel allowed that to sink in, her mind becoming quickly polluted with dozens of nagging questions she simply didn't have answers to. The unspoken assertion that Santana's dad might have worked through his illness, however, had her coming to the possibility that Santana was simply taking a cue from her father in putting Brittany, Quinn and now her as a higher priority than her own needs and future. Rachel sat back in her seat and silently decided that she'd eventually have to talk to Santana about this, but there was nothing she could do about it in the car.

The drive from Columbus to Lima wasn't exactly brief, but there really wasn't much to see along the way, either. Having Santana's last letter was a nice way to pass the time, and so when her fathers started the drive home, she pulled the letter out and began reading it. It wasn't like many of Santana's others, which were surprising in their length. This one was much shorter, but she couldn't help but smile at the words.

_Rachel,_

_By the time you're reading this, you'll be on your way home, so I just want to start with saying one thing._

_Congratulations._

_Honestly, I know you killed your solos, and made everyone else look like untalented plebes, so I hope you can bask in that fact during the drive home. You can celebrate on your own for a bit, but we're gonna pull of a bigger one tonight at my place with B and Q, and there_ _ might _ _be some mouth-watering treats waiting. You'll have to wait and see what kinds, though, estrella._

_I'll hold you to that dinner invite for sure, but I think I should remind you that there was also another invite, a dinner at the 'Stix, promised to me. Maybe together, we could figure out the logistics between the interrogation I'm sure to face from your fathers, and the celebratory dinner for your first wilderness excursion? Either way, I'm always happy to eat out with you._

_And for sure I've got some ideas, Rachel._ _Whether you want them in list, PowerPoint, or show and tell format is up to you. Just let me know._

_Happy to have you back,_

_Santana_

Rachel smiled at the memory of asking Santana out to Breadstix, and how the girl had been so utterly confused at the gesture. To see it being brought up again, and Santana being up for both dinner with her in public and dinner with her and her family in private was pretty big. She'd asked, in a way, for some space after Santana had serenaded her that morning, and she'd been given all the space that she could have possibly needed. Sure, the music theatre camp enforced its rule of banning private laptops, but there was a computer in the office there, and everyone was allowed their cell-phones. That Santana had literally stuck to writing her letters, and keeping their communication to that, was sort of relieving. Well, mostly relieving, with a bit of yearning for more.

Her talk with Quinn over taking a leap of faith on a major change in her life had been a starting point, where she'd truly considered what a future with a woman would be like, with a healthy series of pros and cons to follow it. The talk with Brittany at the pond had further clarified that yes, she did like Santana, and yes, she was interested, but also that she hadn't been ready to rush into anything without knowing how she felt in full, and how Santana felt.

Santana singing to her sleepy self the morning of her departure had truly cleared up Santana's side of things, which had been wonderful. Rachel's brain hadn't been capable of forming coherent sentences at the time, but it had been thinking shocked, if pleasantly surprised thoughts at the time.

And the month away at camp? She hadn't been through writing her second response to Santana when she'd come to a conclusion on what she wanted to say to the girl when she got back. Given their very light playful flirting in their recent correspondence, the thought of having that conversation had her stomach in nervous knots over how it could possibly go. Rachel Barbra Berry knew what she wanted.

She just needed to figure out how to make it happen. It had to be perfect.

* * *

In a sense, Rachel had hoped to see Santana's mom's SUV by the curb when they turned the corner onto their street. The hope that her friend would have been waiting in some sort of impromptu homecoming celebration had been a nice thought, but she wasn't entirely disappointed. Quinn's rather distinctive Volkswagen Bug was where she'd imagined the SUV to be, and Rachel couldn't help but be excited over the prospect of seeing her friend again. She wasn't about to get her hopes up that Santana and Brittany would be with her, but it didn't matter, because her back and forth writing with Quinn had led to some interesting discussions, and she very much wished to see how the blonde was faring with her identity crisis of sorts.

As soon as they pulled into the driveway, Rachel was out the car and dashing toward the blonde that was sitting on the porch steps with a bag at her side and an easy smile on her face. For a brief moment, Rachel wondered if she went back in time and informed her younger self that within twelve months she'd have a solid enough friendship to tackle Quinn Fabray in a hug, if it would be at all believable.

Still, a half a minute later had them both sprawled out on the porch, unmistakably friends to anyone who could have been watching, a happy fondness in Quinn's eyes as Rachel laughed after having bowled the blonde over and disheveled her immaculate appearance.

"I've missed you so much, Quinn. I'm not sure I can express properly how it feels to finally see a friend again after a month away, or at least in a way you'll appreciate, since my standard way is through song." Rachel babbled quickly once she worked her way past her giggling, feeling a little nervous over what the distance might have done to their budding friendship. She remembered that Quinn tended to have an issue with her spontaneous singing, or at least the blonde used to have that issue. It had been a while since she'd tested it.

Quinn rolled her eyes and got to her feet, pulling Rachel up with her. "If you have to sing, can we do it in the privacy of your room? I'm really not up to being publicly serenaded with a Bette Midler song."

Putting aside the unnecessary jab at Bette Midler, who didn't deserve such treatment in the least, and whose music was entirely appropriate for public gestures of friendship and caring, Rachel could understand Quinn's desire for privacy. The girl had always been a rather private individual, and that needed to be respected if she were to strengthen their friendship.

Rachel popped open the door, hoping her fathers could handle her luggage on their own while she had some private time with a friend. After all, she'd been gone for a month, Rachel was sure she had a lot to catch up on, even with all the letters she'd received.

"So, I know you sent me letters, and we did talk quite a bit through those, but I'm sure I missed out on quite a bit in my absence, so if I may ask…how was your first month of summer break?" She asked as she stepped into her room, marveling at the familiarity and allowing herself the childish impulse to catapult herself onto the bed.

"Well, there's not a lot else to tell outside of what I wrote." Quinn began, Rachel sensing a swell of words just waiting to be unleashed by the blonde, if only the girl could work past her nerves. She shifted over on the bed to make room for Quinn and patted the comfy bedspread.

Thankfully, the blonde seemed all too happy to take the invite, whether that was a wish to be closer and bond, or to not have to look Rachel in the eyes while she talked. Of course, Rachel hoped for more of the former than the latter as the primary influence, but she'd take what she could get.

"I did a lot of movie watching with the girls, had to put up with Santana getting picky over which salsa I'd bring out as a snack, had to endure Santana's rehabbing exercises…like I said, we talked about all of that. But I've…I've also done some thinking."

Rachel nodded clearly enough to be noticed out of Quinn's periphery, hoping to send a supportive message with her body language. It had been a while since she and the blonde had any deep discussions, though there had been hints during the letters. Which, really, made her quite proud of Quinn.

"I've been going through some old things from the past. Lucy loved 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang', and I watched it for the first time in a long time. I read 'Of Mice and Men', a book she loved as a kid. I wore glasses around the house while I was doing some cleaning, which was…really hard, but I managed. It was all really hard, but I'm here. I don't feel different, not really." Quinn explained quietly to her ceiling, and by association, Rachel.

Her body acted on auto-pilot as she hugged the blonde's body tightly, perhaps a bit from being starved of physical affection across the past month, but mostly due to how utterly proud and ecstatic she was that Quinn was facing her fears. "I knew you could do it, Quinn! You're so brave, and I'm so proud of you, and if Santana hadn't informed me that we were all doing some celebration tonight, I'd take you out for a dinner to commemorate your efforts."

Surprisingly, Quinn just let herself be hugged into oblivion, even lightly encircling those pale arms around Rachel as well. "It means a lot to hear you say that. But…tonight…well, there's been a change of plans."

Immediately, Rachel felt her stomach drop, which was difficult to wrap her head around given she was horizontal, but still. All car ride long, she'd gotten herself a little hyped up about a get together, and by Quinn's tone, she'd likely set herself up for disappointment. "What kind of change?"

"I guess Britt heard the word celebration and thought that meant it was a party. Santana got a slew of calls today around an hour ago from people asking if she needed them to bring anything to her party. Once Britt told Puck, standard operating procedure for him is to invite half the school, or at least the ones on his short list." Quinn stated plainly, and while it was a bit distressing that she'd have to share company with many who didn't enjoy her own that night, she couldn't help but feel endeared at Brittany's need to include others to celebrate her homecoming. It was a sweet, if misguided gesture.

"So who's all coming? Is that why Santana wasn't here with you when I arrived?" Rachel asked, curious to learn what the blonde's answer would be. Technically, Santana already greeted her that morning with a message; more than that would have been nice, but it wasn't anything she needed. She'd survived on letters for a month, she could manage a few more hours.

"Yeah, she's party-proofing her house right now, what with her mom out of town visiting San's aunt for the weekend. The bad news is more than just the gleeks will be at the party. The good news is that Santana's only rarely hosted a party at hers, or really invited anyone over, so most people don't actually know where she lives. Combine that with it being Independence Day, and a lot will be out watching fireworks and on dates instead of at San's." Quinn finished, finally prodding Rachel for a bit of space between them, which she was okay giving up, given the circumstances.

"So certainly more than the four of us, but perhaps not a lot more than the glee club?" She asked, earning a small nod from the blonde. In a sense, she understood that Santana ensuring her home remain safe and damage-proofed as possible was important; her own party had required nerve-wracking planning to ensure the basement had low potential to be a disaster zone.

"I'm hoping it's not much more. I think some Cheerios will show up, and some football players, but I'm not really sure who else on top of the other gleeks. But you won't have anything to worry about…everyone knows you're Santana's friend, and that means off limits. No bravery required." The blonde said with an encouraging smile that actually managed to make her feel a little more hopeful that the extra guests wouldn't damage the night's prospects. Still, Quinn looked uncharacteristically nervous, even more so since she stopped talking.

"I suppose I'll save it for a rainy day, then." Rachel joked, trying to ease the growing tension, to no avail. Instead, the blonde rolled toward the edge of the bed and reached down, pulling up the bag that she'd spotted Quinn with on the steps.

"I actually might need to borrow some of it for this. I just think…I think I'm ready to let go." Quinn mumbled quietly, eyes widened slightly in what Rachel recognized as fear, but the blonde wasn't absent of determination. That was written all over Quinn's body language, despite the fear and nerves.

Rachel slowly took hold of the bag and scooted up toward the headboard, sitting up against it as she reached her hand in. She had to give Quinn credit for bringing a reusable grocery bag instead of something more wasteful and damaging to the earth. Sure, it might just be brownie points that the blonde was mining for, but it didn't change that those brownie points were quite effective.

Her hand found a few smallish boxes, pulling the group out and onto her lap to get a better look, feeling immense surprise at the hair dyes she was pulling out. It wasn't that it was dye, as that seemed a logical jump from what the girl had already accomplished. No, it was the pinks and purples in a range of shades and tones that had Rachel feeling flabbergasted.

"I couldn't really choose." The softly spoken words brought Rachel out of her stupor, her head bobbing in understanding as her eyes scanned over the choices. They were all quite nice, really, which had an idea quickly forming in her mind.

"Why not use a few of them? It would be a way to do a sort of highlight and lowlight system, and I'm sure with your current hairstyle, you'd look fantastic." Rachel stated with a broad smile, feeling confident that it would be a massive change, but a positive one, even if temporary. It was what Quinn needed to shake the monkey off her back, and as a friend, she'd help the girl out as much as she could.

"I wouldn't look like a…a freak with crazy hair?" Quinn's question hadn't required words so much as just the insecure, doubtful body language that was being expressed wholeheartedly by the former cheer captain. It was clear that Quinn really DID need her help, and Rachel wasn't about to let down a friend.

"You dye your hair blonde often enough anyway, and you can go back to it after a bit if you don't like it. I just think this is worth a shot, and I think you deserve to be as flexible as you want to be, Quinn." Rachel's answer was met with a slow nod, the determination and steely resolve visibly winning out over the fear as Quinn opened her body's posture more and more to Rachel, eventually, reaching a hand out to cover the diva's shin, which was nice. Any sort of contact was nice, knowing the blonde had initiated it.

"But you think it'd look good on me?" Quinn asked with a small smile, seeming to soak up all the confidence Rachel hoped she was emanating into her room, just wanting the blonde to feel secure.

"I think the pinks and purples would flatter you, as well as shift your appearance outside of your past self as well as your current standard image. It'll be new, and there's something to be said about that sort of adventurousness and progress, Quinn. I'm sure you'd turn a lot of heads tonight, for good reasons." She stated emphatically, which finally seemed to get the message across to the blonde. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

Quinn nodded slowly before shifting off the bed, pulling Rachel's arm to let her know she wanted the diva to follow her, which wasn't a difficult decision to make "I figured you'd be up for it. And...good, it might be nice to surprise some of them." The blonde added as they moved into the ensuite with Quinn's bag of dyes and hair products in hand. "I hope it'll be a good night…I know some people are really looking forward to seeing you again."

Rachel's mind shifted to Santana, her teeth finding her lower lip on instinct as she recalled the last time she'd encountered the girl in person, and at some of the word choices in the letters her friend had sent. Yes, she had a good feeling that in at least one person's mind that night, she'd be categorized as a VIP.

Of course, it didn't change the fact that by Quinn's knowing smirk, the girl had likely figured out that her crush was more substantial than she'd let on. Or, as her mind formulated possibilities, that Quinn might have known something of how Santana felt as well. Either way, it was relieving to see some approval from Quinn, knowing she wouldn't have to worry about the BFF giving her the shakedown from disapproval.

"Well, let's begin then, shall we?" She asked, watching that smirk of Quinn's grow into a satisfied, excited smile.

"And after we finish, we can pig out a bit on whatever Santana sent me here with for us to snack on." The blonde added with a cheeky smile, patting the opaque container of some sort of food inside her bag. She could only imagine what was in there, but with a busy afternoon of dyeing and catching up ahead of her, Rachel couldn't find it in herself to get too antsy about waiting for the reveal.

Good things came to those who waited, after all.

* * *

Santana could hardly believe it was already eight o' clock and the crowd in her living room had managed to force her to grab some fresh air. She'd hoped beyond hope that Brittany's party invites would have been ignored by most, given it was Independence Day, and Lima's half-decent fireworks show would draw more attention, at least if just early on. However, everyone had a difficult time saying no to Brittany, and the swarm of gleeks, Cheerios and football players packed into her house was proof of that. Sure, there were the occasional stragglers present who didn't fit any real clique, but for the most part, there were three specific groups being catered to. The gleeks wanted to sing, predictably, and so her karaoke machine was out. The Cheerios wanted to dance, and were insistent that Santana's living room be used for that instead. And the football guys just wanted to play drinking games, and wanted to use her dining room table for that, but also the living room coffee table so they could run a beer pong tournament. It was stupid.

To make it worse, two of her favourite girls hadn't arrived yet, and while she had worked damn hard on becoming more patient over the past month, she needed a friend infusion. Britt was already almost stripper drunk, and Santana knew that the blonde would go into a dancing haze from there on out. It made for a fun time here and there, but not the best company. Kurt and Blaine, at least, seemed up to the task of helping Artie keep Britt safe and away from any more liquor, so that was a plus. One of the few.

As she stood out on her porch, leaning tiredly against the railing, she wished she could go back in time to that morning and stop the party invites. Or, at least, if she couldn't have done that, she would have at least changed the venue, because it was exhausting how destructive some of the assholes at school were when they got some beer into them. Had Puck not spent much of the afternoon prepping her home alongside her, Santana was sure it would have been a catastrophe. She was pretty sure he felt a little guilty about inviting so many others after getting B's invite, which at least let her know he was remotely human, and she supposed it was only fair she host a party after all the ones he'd pull off on the regular.

Santana shook her head, taking a sip of her cooler as she stared down the street, hoping to see a familiar car turn the corner. Nothing. "Fuck, where are those two? Blondie told me she'd be here with Rachel by seven. I didn't think it'd be possible to make Rachel be late for anything." She muttered to herself, letting out a disappointed sigh. It was supposed to be a night celebrating Rachel's return, one spent in front of a TV with some good food, tasty snacks, the best of friends, and BSG season 2.

Instead, she'd spent all day working up a sweat by moving anything with value down to the basement for safe storage. Well, almost anything; certainly anything that could be moved without needing to take it apart to make it fit down the stairwell. The only positive was that she'd gotten to swim in her pool for a bit to cool off, a rare event that summer given her body had only recently healed up enough for her to be safe to swim. Her arm was still a little tender and healing, but the rest had recovered fully.

Thankfully, not fifteen seconds after complaining to no one in particular, a familiar Volkswagen Bug rounded the corner, immediately bringing a giddy smile to Santana's face. She waited until the car was pulling into the driveway before leaving her spot on the porch, carefully traversing down the steps onto the stony walkway in her heels.

The car hadn't even come to a complete stop when the passenger side door swung open and a brunette stepped out. Santana smirked at Rachel wobbling slightly on her heels, certainly tall enough for their height difference to be nullified, which was intriguing. However, when the diva came into full view wearing a dress that looked right out of a classy red carpet event, her hair cascading down one shoulder in smooth waves, well.

Perhaps she lost her breath for a moment or two. And honestly, she wasn't about to feel the least bit foolish over it, because damn, if Rachel wasn't the most beautiful person she'd ever seen.

She pushed her senses to take in everything about Rachel's slow, deliberate walk around the bug and over to her, because she had a feeling it was something she'd look back on years later. Santana took in the summery scent of the front yard, fresh cut grass and her neighbour's cherry tree filling the air. She took in the steady gaze from those soulful brown eyes that never left her own, and the way the twilight cast the diva in an alluring purple tint that only accentuated the diva's pale silvery grey dress, flowing dramatically with each step Rachel took, the high slit showing off a tremendous amount of leg. She listened to the clacking of Rachel's heels on her driveway, the songbirds across the road singing their last songs for the day, and the sound of her heartbeat thumping through her temples.

It was hard to break from the trance she'd been put under, but as soon as Rachel was in reach, she willed herself to hold her hands out, Rachel calmly taking hold of them without breaking her gaze. "My favourite diva's finally home. God, I hope it's not inappropriate to say so, but you're beautiful." She stated, needing to express those two points before her brain melted from the pressure. It was only a second or two afterward that she realized her slip, that she hadn't specified 'today' or 'right now', but either way, it was still true. Rachel was a goddamn vision.

Berry's shy grin had Santana thinking that Berry might have felt a little flattered at that moment, but any thoughts floating around vanished as soon as Rachel let go on her hands and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, Santana." Rachel whispered against her ear, squeezing her a little tighter around the waist before pulling away a step. "You look wonderful as well."

Santana scoffed at the absurdity of it all, because seriously, Rachel was outclassing her by so much that it was kind of embarrassing. Sure, there was no real need to be so classy at a house party, but it still made Berry's words a little ridiculous. Santana knew that 'wonderful' didn't exactly describe her quite as accurately as 'scantily clad' would.

Normally at her house parties, she would have been dressed a bit more sensibly in case of emergency, but it was a special night, and it had been a while since Rachel had seen her. Truth be told, she wanted to earn that lusty stare from Rachel again, only having managed it once while naked in their tent, so she figured showing some extra skin could do it. Plus, it was swelteringly hot, which had given her enough excuse to pull out her shortest jean shorts she owned and a nice set of sandals. Where Rachel looked prepared for the red carpet, she looked more ready for something far less elegant.

"Rachel, I'm wearing a bikini and some shorts, so I'm just gonna take that as you being happy I'm all healed up again." She retorted with a wry grin of her own, glancing back at the car to see Quinn hadn't left it yet. Odd. "Anyway, Q reminded you this is a house party, not the red carpet, right? I mean, I'll never complain about you dolling yourself up like this, but you're gonna outclass everyone in there. I mean, you must have slayed camp, given how much you look like a starlet right now."

The deep blush filling Rachel's cheeks was reward enough, but that dazzling smile just did funny things to her heart, and it was all she could do not to pull the diva back for another hug. Santana knew they had to find time to talk before she did anything remotely more forward than flirting, but it took all she could to not just reach out and touch her.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Santana…and I still say you look wonderful…but I think there's someone who's a little nervous to see you over there in the car. Be gentle with her, okay?" Rachel asked, immediately setting off alarm bells in Santana's mind, because when Quinn left to visit Rachel, the blonde was peachy. Perfectly happy and fine and calm and in no way nervous.

So it was no wonder that Quinn became a priority, though she did lightly grasp Rachel's hand and bring them both toward the vehicle; long since turned off, but still holding a passenger. She watched Rachel gesture cutely for Quinn to come on out, and surprisingly enough the driver's side door opened only about ten seconds afterward.

The first thing Santana saw was pink. And then purple. She had to reconcile the lighting outside from the setting sun with reality for a moment before realizing that Quinn's hair wasn't blonde anymore. It was pink and purple and deliciously rebellious, and everything she'd hoped to see over the past few years of blondie being entirely repressed and controlled. It was perfect, but Quinn's worried frown had Santana setting her feelings aside and closing the distance, using her free hand to cup her best friend's cheek.

Carefully, she scanned over Q's face for any sign of distress, noticing a wealth of nervousness and fear, but nothing that would have her believe the blonde was self-destructing or imploding in any way. Quinn was just waiting there, waiting for a reaction. Feeling a swell of relief, Santana ran her hand up into the former blonde's hair, mussing it up a bit as she smiled. "Flawless, Q. Absolutely fucking flawless."

Quinn let out a small, relieved sigh that she tried to mask by rolling her eyes dramatically and shooting a grin off at Rachel. "Well, I had some help. Rachel helped me decide on the colours, helped me dye it all… it got a little dicey at times, but those peppermint patties you made saw us through in the end."

Santana couldn't help but feel a little sheepish over having made Berry and Quinn some delicious food, but whatever. She liked treating her friends and keeping them happy, so if that meant baking them stuff, then so be it. "Maybe you'll remember that the next time I ask you for my salsa, Q." She noted with a cheeky smile, knowing full well that Quinn probably wouldn't ever be in a position to have to get her salsa again, but it was the principle of the matter. Quinn's sharp exhale through her nose only confirmed she and the purple-haired girl were on the same wavelength. "Anyway, I should stop hogging you both all to myself. Let's head back in."

At that, Quinn stepped past them and moved toward the door, Rachel moving a little more slowly, still hand in hand with Santana. They watched their friend escape into the house as they moved up onto the porch, and Santana couldn't help but cherish those moments alone with Rachel, just enjoying her presence. She knew the party would pull her all over the house doing a lot of damage control over the next while, and Rachel would be pulled in all directions by the gleeks.

Santana breathed in those last moments as her hand rested on the doorknob. It was going to be a good night. She had to believe that despite everything, nothing could bring her down from the high of having Rachel at her side again.

* * *

It was all wrong, wrong, wrong!

Rachel had been excited about the party, even after being informed that there would be a crowd of others outside of their quartet. She'd only rarely attended parties before, after all, and the thought of finally going to one, especially one hosted by Santana, had been exciting.

However, the reality of it all truly frustrated her in its perpetual disappointment. Rachel wasn't sure why the kids from McKinley were so intent on raising hell in Santana's home, but it was seriously driving a wedge between her and Santana. The poor hostess was being pulled in all directions and could barely remain in one place at a time for long before she'd be called away. Whether it was a throng of jocks stampeding in the garden, or some drunken idiots trying to cook all of her food, or some careless neanderthals routinely abusing the railing of the stairway, or some other obscene ridiculousness, Rachel had no time to establish a proper scene with Santana.

All she'd wanted to do was single Santana out sometime during the party, have a quality conversation, perhaps accompanied by a nice song, before heading into a heart to heart. So far, in the hours she'd been there, she hadn't been able to make it through a single topic of discussion before Santana would have to run off to save her home from calamity. It was a wonder that the party wasn't called off, really.

The only times Santana DID manage to have some extended periods of letting loose were on the improvised dance floor. Which, while very intensely alluring, wasn't exactly the environment Rachel felt was necessary to get their talk over and done with. And honestly, there was no way she'd be able to dance with Santana without touching her quite inappropriately, so really, she needed to get that talk out of the way. She needed Santana to know how she felt, so the girl wouldn't be confused or uncertain.

So while she endured another period of Santana being absent, Rachel nursing a wine cooler and listening to Tina sing Pat Benatar, she had to wonder if she'd even get the opportunity to talk to Santana. It was past one in the morning already, and the party was winding down. She didn't want to discuss something so important when Santana was exhausted and sleep-deprived.

"Why so glum?" Rachel was brought out of her thoughts abruptly by one Blaine Anderson, a boy she didn't really know all that well, aside from him being with Kurt and also being a rival soloist over at Dalton. Still, he seemed nice enough, if a bit cartoonishly theatrical at times.

"I'm not glum, I'm happy." Rachel tried to force a realistic smile, but all she could manage was one good enough for a show, and Blaine clearly saw through it by his cocked eyebrow. "Okay, I'm glum. I just…I had expectations for how tonight would go, and reality has spurned me at every turn."

Blaine nodded, turning his view back toward the stage. "I'm sorry you feel like that. I've had a great night, but…this party was held for you, so if you're not happy, it's kind of failing at its purpose." The boy stated, offering her a sad smile before shoulder nudging her. "What'd you want to do tonight, anyway?"

Rachel willed herself not to fiddle with her dress too much, not wanting to show how anxious the night had made her, or how uncomfortable she was in feeling the need to talk about her issues before talking to Santana. Still, it was bottling up inside her with increasing pressure, and she could only hold it for so long. And since Blaine was an independent third party no one really knew, he seemed like an alright temporary confidant.

"There's this person I wanted to talk to…I promised them a month ago that I'd tell them something, and I haven't been able to get them alone all night. It's really important, and until I do, I'm not sure how to be around them." Rachel said, trying her best to be vague in her word use, not wanting anyone to wise up and push her toward Santana and make a public spectacle. Rachel had loved their little one on ones in the past, and wanted that atmosphere again.

Rachel felt a hand cover her own, appreciating the sentiment even if she still wasn't entirely comfortable with Blaine. "I guess I just hope it works out for you. All you can do is wait to pick your shot or just…well, throw caution to the wind and show them if you don't feel you can get enough time alone to talk. Sometimes what's flawed to us might be perfect for someone else. If they're still here after a month…I'm not sure you'll have to say much at all for them to understand."

Despite her concern that Blaine seemed to have caught on to the underlying issue, Rachel could see the logic in his words; Santana HAD waited a month, and over that time had been remarkably patient. Santana had confessed her feelings, and from what she understood, they hadn't changed. Rachel had made her decision, so did she really need so much lead-in time to let Santana know what she wanted? If there was another, more efficient way available, would she take it?

She offered the Warbler a smile and returned back to her thoughts, considering numerous less extensive declarations that she might have more opportunity for. While Tina sang about love being a battlefield, Rachel knew that she was far from any such warring feelings. She'd made peace with herself and how she felt, and perhaps something simple would work just as well at sending her message. Perhaps it suited them a little better that way, with how their time together rarely went according to plan.

Rachel took a sip from her wine cooler, appreciating the buzzing courage it had offered her. She wasn't about to waste any more time. At the next opportunity, she would let Santana know how she felt. It was long overdue.


	6. Chapter 6

The party was finally settling down after an absolutely chaotic few hours. Strangers had filtered in and out of her house, groups had continuously butted heads, and Santana had needed to remain at a buzzed state in order to fully handle all the shit that people were trying to pull in her abode. Not that she was an alcoholic, but a little more than a moderate buzz would have been pretty awesome instead of drinking so much goddamn lemonade in between coolers. It was tasty lemonade, but still, not the point.

As per usual with most parties featuring her McKinley peers, the awkward greeting phase was over, and Puck's initial blitz of quarters was over, which had gotten most of the group pretty nicely drunk. Finally, the exuberant singing and dancing period was drawing to a close, meaning that more games would be coming up, something Santana knew she could at least endure a bit easier. Singing and dancing was fantastic, to a point, but Britt hadn't yet sobered up from her stripper drunk state, and that kind of made a steady dancing period trouble given how often the blonde had wanted to just go to town in front of everyone. Add that to Rachel sitting out for pretty much all of the dancing, despite her gestures for the diva to join her, and it had been kind of a weak few hours of the party. The only real positive had been Finn taking a shining to Sofia, one of her junior Cheerios, which hopefully lowered the odds of Finn freaking out on her or Rachel all night.

Of course, once the karaoke machine had been set up in the den midway through the dancing, the party population had been split. Unevenly, with the gleeks and a few Cheerios leaving to sing along, but still split, which made for a busy time ensuring no one was up to any trouble. After spending far too much of her party being serious and mostly soberly advising people to get their shit together, it was kind of nice to hear some of those familiar voices. Of course, seeing Sam literally haul Rachel off the coffee table after the diva refused to give up the mic was kind of priceless. Hearing Berry singing "The Show Must Go On" in response had managed to bring back her previously hibernating sense of humour, at least until he shoved a vodka cooler in her mouth.

Which was kind of really unnecessary, though maybe she had laughed when Rachel got all petulant and pouty from being treated like some singing baby that needed a pacifier. Not that she'd admit such a thing to Rachel, even under duress. She was tough, but Rachel knew her weaknesses, and Santana knew letting out that sort of admission was suicide. Still, she couldn't help feeling that the girl was over-dramatic and fun to tease. It was part of what made the diva so endearing, and what made Santana want to just dance with her. Why hadn't Rachel wanted to dance? She'd tossed out all her little seductive charms at the diva to no avail, and maybe she'd needed to take a fresh air break or two to battle the tears she knew her over-emotional drunk inner Snixx had been pushing out over the rejections. It was only Rachel's yearning stares that kept Santana feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was still some hope. Even if Rachel wouldn't dance with her.

It was when the gleeks shut off the karaoke and headed back out to the living room that Santana knew something was going down. She just hoped it would help die the party down, considering it was closing in on two o'clock. Of course, her hopes were dashed when Puck stepped out from the group and stood up on the table in the living room.

"Hey…hey, everyone get the fuck over here for truth or dare!" He yelled out, earning a number of enthusiastic cheers, but Santana just shook her head, feeling nauseous at the thought of another drinking game that would likely cause more destruction to her home and the surrounding neighbourhood. Seriously, truth or dare? What was this, eighth grade?

"Puck, could you be any lamer? Here I thought you'd pull out something interesting." Santana scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest in protest, knowing the game would likely cause more group tension.

He chuckled and hopped off the table as the rest of the group congregated in the living room. "Come on, Satan, it's the fourth of July…independence day. Lots of chances to let them be free to do stupid shit they'll have to live with for the rest of high school. It's my civic duty." He explained, and yeah, she could see the shred of potential in his plan, even if the danger outweighed it. Still, it was a done deal, given everyone had already started forming a big circle.

Slightly annoyed in accepting her fate, Santana uncrossed her arms and took a seat on the couch beside Quinn and Trouty, not wanting to sit on the damn floor or some hard wooden chair, and because Rachel was already sandwiched by asian fusion, and Britt by Puck and Sugar. Better to be able to sit by at least one friend.

It didn't take long for everyone to get settled and start the game at a breakneck pace. Most of the drinking was over at that point, and thankfully everyone agreed not to implement it into the game too severely. It meant lower odds of having to deal with blackout drunks doing stupid shit, so there was that.

Ultimately, the game's first few rounds were surprisingly alright, which was a bit of a conflict given most of the requests were tame. Sure, she didn't want any major trouble, but a lot of the dares were just weak. Especially ones from Rachel, who kept daring people to sing, even if the songs WERE usually embarrassing and funny. She kind of wished the girl would just use that weird little organized brain of hers to research all the craziest shit out there and throw it at them all, but the diva seemed entirely oblivious or unwilling. Santana expected it was more the latter than the former, though. By the end of the summer, however, she imagined she might be able to influence Berry to change that up a bit. Hopefully.

After about thirty minutes, Santana spotted Puck flitting his gaze between her and Quinn, which wasn't entirely unexpected given their collective hotness. Still, it was suspicious and when it got to his third turn, and he grinned like a goddamn devil, she knew something was up, and the real game was just about to start.

"Santana, truth or dare?" The mohawked boy asked her with a prime shit-eating grin. Unfortunately, Santana refused to wreck her reputation; even if he had something up his sleeve, her past tendency to run through dare after dare left her with one option available. Never in her life had she chosen truth, at least when provided both options, and Santana Lopez wasn't about to break that streak. The only thing that had her curious was that he knew she was sober enough to remember, so if he had her do something really embarrassing, she'd have to get him back hardcore. It was easier sometimes to hear stories than to recall memories and relive the experience again.

"Dare, duh." Santana noted with a shrug, and his grin grew into a ludicrous smile, like a kid on Christmas day. It was almost unnerving.

"I dare you to give Quinn a lap dance." Puck stated firmly, staring right into her eyes; Santana refused to break his gaze as she hastily considered how to handle it. Quinn was totes straight, and when she was drunk, sometimes she'd get a bit angry…though sometimes she'd get a bit handsy, too.

The rest of the room of course broke out into drunken cheers and catcalls, but Santana didn't give a shit about that. She just didn't want Quinn to assassinate her tomorrow, especially with it being a Sunday with church and confession and everything. Santana knew for a fact that there were guns in the Fabray house. Guns, plural. Sure, she'd gotten back to good with Q, and they were best friends again, but Quinn had never been comfortable with sexual shit, and Santana didn't want to ruin anything when it'd just been fixed.

Adding to that, she really didn't want to send the wrong message to Rachel. However, her pride wouldn't let her slack off and do some weak, half-hearted dancing now that it actually had to be highlighted for once. Just a quick glance at the diva told her the brunette wasn't comfortable at all with the situation, Rachel glaring daggers at Puck. _Fuck…well…maybe I dance all up on Quinn, but…but try to push my focus to Rachel whenever I can, so she doesn't feel left out? I mean, I know Puck's doing this to add to his damn mental spank bank, but if I'm gonna dance on Q, I've gotta be really careful to balance Q's anger and Rachel's…whatever she's feeling _…_  
_

"Q, you good with this?" Santana asked, still holding his stupid gaze, knowing he'd have her and Quinn, and likely Rachel, out for blood all game long. Leave it to Puck to blow his load in round three because his dick decided to do all the thinking. The only response was a hum that sounded more or less indifferent, so Santana nodded and got up, happy to see Britt was passed out on Artie's lap. The last thing she needed was for B to try on a whim to double-team Q during her dare.

Taking her time, Santana walked into the kitchen, grabbed a chair, and lugged it into the living room, positioning it so Rachel, Mike and Tina would likely have the best view during the dance outside of the recipient. Quinn was totes visibly annoyed by the building spectacle, but given how flushed her face was, it seemed kinda clear that she was also pretty embarrassed. Which, really, was pretty much a death sentence for the sex-shark, and possibly her too if she didn't do this right.

Santana pulled her iPod out of her bag and set it up on the stereo system's dock, scrolling through the playlist until she found the best song she could for Q. It wasn't the stereotypical song for what she was about to do, because Quinn was a classy lady, and if Puck thought she'd pick some rowdy dance song like 'Hot in Here' or 'Pornstar Dancing', he was mistaken. That sort of trashy shit would just piss Quinn off, and Santana knew the former blonde would appreciate a more sensual tone to it all, even if she wasn't pleased to take part in the spectacle. And fuck, Santana wasn't one to be modest; she knew she was hot enough to pull off a slower song. And maybe she'd give Rachel some incentive to join her the next time she called on her to dance.

The Weeknd's 'What You Need' filled the room, the soft synth and beat hushing the room as Santana smirked wickedly and sauntered slowly to Quinn, whose eyes took on a questioning glint, immediately wary and seemingly flustered by the song choice. _Well fuck…maybe sensual was a bad call, though I'm pretty sure she'd be petrified if I chose something trashier…_

She traced a hand down the soft, smooth skin of Quinn's arm and stepped over a pale leg, maintaining full eye contact with those curious hazel orbs as Santana danced and ran her hands down her own body, letting herself feel the music. As soon as the lyrics hit, she lowered herself against a milky-white thigh and ground backward against her, the friction slightly pulling Q's lower half forward on the chair. It caught the former blonde a little off guard, and had Santana grinning wide as she gamely, smoothly straddled the girl, her legs hooking around pale thighs and the seat of the chair as she tossed her raven locks back and breathily sang along with the song.

She didn't have a lot of experience dancing like this, but she had daydreamed about a few routines a lot, and decided to just go for it. She was Santana Lopez, she was all healed up, basically, and she'd danced in front of others before. Not lap dances, but dancing on tables, and it was close enough so that it wasn't all that nerve-wracking or embarrassing. But for Quinn and Rachel, she'd make sure nothing went off the rails.

It was clear that Quinn hadn't had any idea of what to expect, and was practically a deer in the headlights. Unless she wanted to rehab Q's puritanical mind over the rest of the summer, Santana knew she'd have to teach the girl it was okay to relax, to accept her dance, before she could focus on Rachel too much. From that point on, screw the sexual aspects of it all, she'd pull out all her usual stops, using her insider knowledge on what relaxed the former blonde, and what touches would usually have the girl smiling. Not that she'd go all prude during the dance, she'd just be more attentive in personalizing it.

Quinn's slouched position gave Santana a bit of height on her that she used to her advantage, one arm around the girl's neck for balance as her hips rolled into the former blonde. Santana's gaze shifted across the room to Rachel's intense brown eyes as she arched her body into Quinn's, drawing an audible gasp from blondie's lips as her other hand trailed down her own half-naked torso teasingly. Smiling, she writhed and rolled into Q slowly and firmly, nuzzling the former blonde's cheek with her own at first before throwing her head back, Santana's body leaning with it far enough that Quinn's arms predictably shot out, wrapping around her waist to catch her. It was a good sign that Q was starting to get a feel for it, and knew that Santana trusted her as she did her thing, just like when they were in cheer together.

Seeing Rachel's gaze darken much like they had during that Saturday night out in the wilderness, Santana smirked, rolling her hips harder against Quinn at an angle. A tan hand wrapped around a pale neck gave her enough leverage to drag her hips teasingly back up the former blonde's supple thighs and to the shorts-covered core, the first pop of Santana hips eliciting more than just another appreciative gasp from Quinn. No, now there were teeth biting into Q's lower lip, and those cheeks of hers were bright red, but Quinn hadn't been the only one whose voice breached her performance.

Santana's eyes darted away from the former blonde for a moment and toward the sound of the noise, excitement bubbling through her as Rachel's aroused expression pierced through her, the diva ogling her ass something serious, that little pink tongue smoothing across Berry's lower lip. The intense spike of desire she felt wasn't remotely minimized by the amusement drawn from the diva's beet-red face; no, after a night where Rachel was a little more distant than she'd have liked, she was finally seeing some unfiltered attraction from the girl, and it was about as much of an aphrodisiac as Santana could have asked for.

She shot Rachel a brief wink before popping against Quinn again, this time running her free hand down Quinn's chest slowly, idly admiring her friend's silky smooth skin and the thundering heartbeat underneath. One that seemed to jump the slightest bit as Santana whispered the end of the verse against the girl's cheek, one eye peeking past Q's face toward Rachel's smoldering gaze. The girl's intense, watchful eyes had Santana's body feeling positively electric,, and like hell if it wasn't making her a little more adventurous for Berry's enjoyment.

Santana gamely arched back up and into Quinn again, giving the girl a face full of cleavage this time as she ran a hand through the freshly dyed hair and tucked some pink locks behind Q's ear. She knew the former blonde liked when people did that, and she hoped it cushioned the shock of getting a face full of tits before Santana unlatched herself from the girl's thighs and turned around. Now, Santana Lopez wasn't entirely oblivious; sober Quinn was a zero on the Kinsey scale, but drunk Quinn was about a one or so, and she was comfortable enough with that. The girl probably wouldn't do much but look under any normal circumstances, but Santana had seen the former blonde checking her ass out often enough in the past. Hell, she was pretty sure Quinn checked out hers AND Berry's asses on a regular enough basis, which was kind of alright, even if it was partially why she'd once thought Quinn had been an option way back. Turned out Quinn just liked looking and sometimes, while drunk, liked touching, but that was always where it ended.

It at least proved Q had good taste, all things considered, and she didn't mind letting the former blonde indulge a little if it made her more comfortable. Santana slowly ground her ass into the girl, her body arching back far enough to rest the back of her head against Q's shoulder as she popped and rolled her hips in time to the beat, finding a little selfish joy in Quinn's staggered breaths. It didn't hurt that from that position, she could also see the stunned faces of the gleeks as they watched on.

Tina looked to be studying every motion, probably so that she could do something similar to Mike later on, which she thought was kinda cool. Tina had never really paid much attention to her before, and it was nice to provide an example if the girl was interested. Britt was awake and smiling excitedly as usual, thankfully not joining in, having seemingly sobered from her nap. Mercedes looked like she'd seen a ghost, and was considering whether some religious ritual cleansing would be needed afterward. Puck looked like he was seconds from orgasm, a big stupid grin on his face. Finn was suspiciously absent, so Santana figured he'd had his mailman issue as usual somewhere early on, while Sofia just sat there all red-faced, finding keen interest in the nearby floor lamp. Sugar was bobbing along enthusiastically, thankfully not waving her hands in the air or anything this time around, though there were some predictable stray dollar bills on the floor that hadn't managed to cross the distance toward her. Sam was drooling, Artie was full on staring at her chest, and Kurt and Blaine were just slack-jawed in possible aversion.

But Rachel. Fuck, Rachel looked like she was seconds away from jumping her, all tense and breathing heavily, eyes dark and mouth pursed in seeming jealousy. She thanked the heavens that the song was only three and a half minutes long, because much longer and she wasn't sure how Rachel would react at that rate. The room was already practically thick with the erotic tension rolling out of Rachel as the diva watched on; a half minute more of music, and she was pretty sure she'd never finish her dance.

Santana knew that jealousy, despite being a good sign of Rachel having deep-seated attraction for her, wasn't exactly ideal in keeping the diva calm and satisfied. So, with an idea in mind, Santana locked eyes with the diva and kept singing the lyrics directly to her as she moved against Quinn, putting on her best breathless sex-kitten expression as she basically told her that SHE was what Rachel needed, making the dance almost solely about Rachel instead Quinn. Ultimately, letting the diva know that if she liked what she saw, she could have it.

And when Berry just turned redder, her eyes dilating further in arousal, and slowly licked her lips…well, Santana might have felt the impulse to feel herself up while holding a heated gaze with her. And she might have earned a positively knee-weakening whimper from the diva, too.

With her goal achieved, Santana leaned forward again, only her ass grinding, popping and rolling against Quinn's core again. Sure, Fabray didn't have a dick, but it wasn't that much more of a challenge. Not with Quinn's fingers gripping into her hips, suspiciously keeping her in a set rhythm as Santana moved her body to the music. Maybe Q was more drunk than she'd thought.

As the song neared its close, Santana turned again, stilling Quinn's protest with a finger against her lips as she once more straddled a pale thigh, rolling up it and letting out her own little mewl of pleasure, which had Q's eyes bulging as she pulled Santana against her by the waist. Because fuck, she was a sexual being, and all that dancing and friction against her lady parts, along with Rachel's overwhelmingly intense staring, had gotten her a little heated. She was only human, after all.

Santana caressed Quinn's ivory cheek with the back of her hand and tossed her hair again as Q's free hand traced up her side, the touch eliciting goosebumps along its trail. She rolled twice more and arched into Quinn until her body was flush against the former blonde. Q's hot breath washed against tan, perspired breasts as Santana's face nuzzled into pinkish-purple hair, leaving one eye open to hold Berry's gaze all the while. Hoping she knew that Berry could be in Q's place, all she'd have to do was ask.

She let the track finish with the two of them just wrapped up together, a hand repeatedly stroking through the magenta locks in comfort and a bit of possessiveness, because fuck if that wasn't the point of the damn song. Quinn was breathing a bit heavily against her, and once the song faded into silence, she kissed her friend's forehead and slid backward off of the former blonde, cheekily blowing her another kiss before re-taking her seat on the couch again. And maybe she looked over at Rachel and winked again for good measure. And maybe she held eye contact fora bit, hoping Rachel was aware that much of the dance was indeed for her.

Some of the room's occupants clapped slowly, some uttered monosyllabic words, and some exhaled deeply. The spectacle was over, and it was back to the game at hand, though some of the reactions had been amusing, if not sort of nice. Sugar predictably blurted out obnoxious catcalls, of course, and Britt gave her an enthusiastic nod and two thumbs up. It was the same reaction she'd get when she got the dance moves down during their lessons, which had Santana feeling pretty great. Some things never changed. She just smirked playfully at Quinn when the former blonde willed herself off the chair and reclaimed the spot beside her again. By the shift in Q's hazel eyes, she knew it was payback time.

"I believe it's my turn." Santana noted with smug satisfaction, the Puck nodding along to her words, not at all aware of the trouble he was in. If he was going to make her get Q all worked up, he was gonna pay for it. "Truth or dare, Puck?"

"Dare." He said hazily, still probably fantasizing about what had just occurred mere feet away from him.

"I'll give you some mercy this time, Puck, seeing as this party's a celebration. I dare you to go finish in the closet over there into the trash can, and then strip down to your boxers for the rest of the night." She requested, wearing her best Cheshire grin as she watched him get hit by a hard dose of reality. As if she'd let him get off on them without paying for it publicly, and she was crass and blunt enough to do it. This wasn't amateur hour, and everyone knew Santana Lopez didn't fuck around with sexual dares.

Puck got up and dutifully made his way to the closet, grumbling and blushing the whole way as she and Quinn innocently waved at his departure. "You're such a bitch, San." Quinn noted as she chuckled beside her, and it was true. She was a bitch, she owned that. But really, she could also hear the humour back in Q's voice, which meant her actions were something Quinn both approved of and found funny. Which really was a major point of getting back at Puck.

Santana wrapped an arm around the girl and side-hugged her, hoping to finish their shift back into their friendly camaraderie. "Yeah, but you love it, Q." And it was true; as much as Quinn liked Puck as a friend, she loved when Santana gave him his just desserts.

She sat there with Quinn kinda lean-snuggling against her for a few more questions, somewhat annoyed at how tame the questions were after hers and Puck's tore the roof off of it all. Apparently eating three bananas, not even sexually, was a worthy dare now. Ugh.

At the very least, she got to play with Rachel a bit from across the room. Whenever the diva would glance toward her, she'd lick her lips, cock an eyebrow, stretch, anything to grab and hold Rachel's attention. It was honestly like a drug, and every second Berry's eyes weren't on her felt a lot less awesome in comparison. Still, as questions passed, the diva would spend more and more time watching her, and that certainly lifted her spirits through the boring game of truth or dare.

But when it got back around to Britt, and the blonde's eyes just lit up, Santana had a feeling it would be something good. "Rachie, truth or dare?" Britt's words were breathless in anticipation, her hands clapping quickly from her overflowing enthusiasm; it was always fun to watch the dancer when she was excited, because it always felt like the world would break out into song and dance for her at any given moment. Even if it never did, it was nice.

As soon as the words left Britt's lips, Santana shifted her gaze over at the target of the question, who was probably going to have to do something absolutely silly, given it was B and all.

Looking at Rachel, the diva seemed to expect this, and didn't look entirely pleased, but Santana barely stifled her cheer when Berry shrugged, knowing the girl grew some ovaries since the first two times she chose truth. "Dare, I suppose."

Britt let out an adorable squeak of glee and bounced a bit where she was sitting for a moment before pointing her hand at me. "I dare you to get your sweet lady kisses on with San. I totally saw that you wanted to when San was giving Quinn the lap dance, and San's a really good kisser, and I think it'd be super hot."

Now, considering how the night had gone, and Britt's inability to keep from giving into impulse, Santana guessed that maybe she deserved that. She did, after all, egg Rachel on during the dance quite a bit, and to be brutally honest she wanted to get her mack on with Rachel ten minutes ago.

Rachel, though, sat still as a statue, and if not for the odd blink, Santana wouldn't have been sure the starlet was even breathing for a bit.

Santana watched the diva for a few seconds until it was clear that Berry was oddly catatonic, despite the loud, obnoxious remarks from throughout the room and Tina shaking Rachel's shoulders good-naturedly. A little niggling doubt crept into Santana from the odd reaction, given how clearly Rachel had expressed her desire before.

Giving Quinn a brief squeeze, Santana let go of the former blonde and moved over toward Rachel, pulling her gently off the loveseat she'd been sharing with Chang Squared. Berry was still entirely dazed looking and couldn't even manage eye contact, which was kind of weird since the diva had zero problems ogling her during the dance. It all made no sense, and her mouth betrayed her a tiny bit by deciding to prod for answers.

"What's up, estrella? You gonna make Britt sad, or are you gonna take this golden opportunity? I promise you can put your hands wherever you want…" Santana declared in a saucy sing-song tone, playing the crowd a bit as they kept egging Rachel on, even if the diva seemed entirely unaware. For some reason, the brunette's focus was far away, and even her light stroking of Rachel's hands wasn't bringing the girl fully back to her. It was worrying. It had her feeling that tightness in her throat that only meant tears were on their way.

Because what if Rachel was lusting after Q and not her? What if Rachel was imagining herself in Santana's place? She could understand; Quinn was super hot with her pinky-purple hair, and was super smart, and nice, and awesome, and she'd never had to co-captain with Becky like Santana had, and the whole idea of it all was just really upsetting. Santana did her best to just focus on Rachel and not the possibility of Berry being into Q, because that'd just break her damn heart. She'd be happy for them, but it'd really, really suck.

"It's just…I've…well, I've never kissed a girl before, and…" Rachel trailed off and didn't really continue her sentence afterward, despite having plenty of time to do so, and all her best friends around to keep her safe. Feeling a little concerned over how timid Rachel was being, Santana put her index and middle fingers under the diva's chin and angled it to face her, the girl's eyes only reluctantly following suit after a second or two. "You're really pretty, Santana."

Rachel's words entirely caught her off guard, because who said that kind of stuff in the middle of truth or dare, but it was kind of amazing, and was totally something Rachel would say, which made everything click in Santana's head. This was Berry's first time kissing a girl, and she didn't want some raunchy spectacle; she just wanted that sort of intimate romance from all her favourite movies. Which, honestly, would be hard to manage given the audience around them, but she was up to the challenge. If Berry actually wanted this, she'd handle it as perfectly as she could.

So Santana smiled back at her, hopefully easing the brunette's worries a bit with it. She wanted Rachel to be comfortable and for her to be able to look back on the whole shebang with a smile, though her reasons weren't entirely altruistic. Because hey, she was a lady lover, and she had wanted to taste those lips for a long time now; just the dreams across the last month alone were enough to have her feeling a little desperate. It was just a fact; they were plump and just the right size, and given how ridiculous Rachel was in her skincare and health, she was sure they were soft as fuck. Santana felt thankful she'd applied some lip balm after her dare earlier. Hell, she felt thankful that she'd be Rachel's first lady kiss, and that she'd be able to show Rachel how deeply she felt for her in a way she knew best and tended to excel in.

Still, she knew Rachel needed some sort of words from her in return. "Nothing for a gorgeous girl like you to be nervous about, Rach." Santana whispered softly, leaning a little closer to the diva with another reassuring smile, grazing a hand down the diva's arm in hopes to soothe her worries. "You can't do this badly…you don't have it in you. So…may I kiss you, estrella?"

Santana watched the diva part her mouth, her tongue slowly tracing her lower lip, then her upper lip; she was practically entranced when Rachel moved closer, angling her head ever so slightly. It felt a little odd being the same height for once, and she had to mentally adjust for a second before closing the distance. One of her arms steadied Rachel around her waist, hoping to add a sense of security for the diva, while the other slipped into those brunette waves and led her in, Berry's lips grazing hers for a fleeting moment.

But what a moment, the room fading to silence around her as their lips connected flush, hers pillowing Rachel's upper lip for long enough to know that she wanted more. A microsecond wasn't enough. Honestly, it made no sense when Rachel went to pull away almost immediately, because her head was buzzing and that wasn't even a real freaking kiss. Not in any meaningful sense.

So Santana pulled the diva snug against her, Rachel's startled little gasp enough of an opportunity to catch her upper lip again, and FUCK, her lips were amazing, and not only because of the damn delicious berry-flavoured lip gloss. Not that she'd kissed many girls' lips, but Berry's were the best she'd tasted, and she wanted…needed… more of the diva.

Her hands grabbed at the girl she'd been crushing on for weeks, needing to find purchase and hold on for some sort of grounding because the way Rachel kissed her in return had her feeling like she was in flight, feeling uncharacteristically warm with every grazing touch of Rachel's fingertips against her skin. The diva's hands were exploring with a growing impatience, only halting when Santana's tongue traced the length of Rachel's lower lip, teasing at opening herself up to a little more if Berry was interested.

Before Santana could continue segueing their embrace into a more heated pace, Rachel shifted gears, roughly pressing against her, crashing those berry-flavoured lips against hers again and again. Vaguely, she could hear the rest of the room cheering and catcalling and groaning, but Santana couldn't find it in herself to care because Rachel's hands were fucking everywhere, grabbing and clawing and goddamn laying claim, and it was all she could do to keep up with the feverish diva. Her lungs were already straining for air, and she tried putting even a hair's width of space between them so she could freaking breathe, but Rachel wasn't having any of it, barreling Santana backward only for them to stumble against an end table.

Berry's brief, gleeful giggle as they stabilized themselves was like a drug, and while Santana was pretty sure she got hit with some popcorn as she pulled Rachel back into her again, none of it mattered, not with the diva groping the hell out of her ass and ruining all other lips for her in the future. It was a rush to be a recipient of so much pure want, it was dizzying, and when her back hit a wall, her only reaction was to drag her hands up Rachel's back, loving the searing heat from the diva's body and pulling her impossibly closer, needing more contact, more Rachel.

Somewhere between Berry tweaking the fuck out of her tits and surprisingly lifting her off the ground, Santana realized they were in some other room. Honestly, she hadn't really thought Rachel would be strong enough, but mighty mouse practically tossed her on the bed before rushing to the door to close and lock it.

Santana took the moment to catch a second wind and looked around, noticing they were in the guest room, which wasn't really anything special, but the bed was a queen sized, and that was most certainly enough for her. Judging by how hungry Rachel looked from where she stood by the door, Santana wasn't sure the diva cared one iota about where they were.

She'd seen Rachel get into her zone while performing, but right then, that sort of tunnel vision was more than a little overwhelming in its raw, intense passion. She'd never felt such pure desperation and need before when making out, and it had left her breathless in every sense of the word, her lungs struggling to take in what it could before the round two.

"Not that I'm complaining, but I was told you…uh… had something you wanted to talk to me about before…well…anything?" Santana asked between panting breaths as the brunette prowled toward her, the girl's unzipping of her dress and its subsequent fall to the floor the only immediate answer to her query. It was a little uncharacteristic of Berry, but she'd stick to the original gameplan of being as open to Rachel as the diva wanted, while keeping her actions at first base until given explicit permission for more. Which, by her state of undress, seemed to possibly end up being more than that.

And not that she'd really expected otherwise, but Rachel had a damn rocking body hidden under those animal sweaters, and she had an immediate conflicting urge to tackle the diva and lick her abs as well as the newly nude perky breasts staring her in the face. However, Berry took time to pull those silver heels off, which was enough of a signal to Santana to get naked ASAP, managing to unzip her shorts and slip them down her legs just a second or two before Rachel lunged onto the bed and freaking tore the swimsuit off her body, roughly tossing it onto the floor behind her as she crawled up the bed.

She felt like a gazelle being eyed up by lioness, honestly, as Rachel crawled over her, Santana sliding onto her back to accommodate the girl's desires. Rachel had set the pace all the way there, she'd gladly give up that control this time if it made the diva more comfortable. And deliciously aggressive. That too.

"I've always wanted things too much, Santana…and I've never been good at sharing. You know what happens when I want something…or someone." The diva spoke, slowly exploring Santana's legs with her hands, Rachel's lustful gaze just taking in her figure once again. And hell, there was no question that she'd let Berry look and touch as much as she wanted, because fuck if that wasn't one of the hottest things she'd ever heard. "I came here tonight with this big, detailed plan and then you danced, and you kissed me, and…and I decided we'll talk later. Though I won't apologize for it, I hope I haven't been too forward for your tastes."

It was kind of funny, but more hot than amusing because who the fuck just did that? Like, Santana was used to being playfully pinched and felt up or prodded toward a bedroom, but Rachel basically just abducted her with no warning or anything, all out of pure, brazen want. Not gonna lie, it felt pretty good to have caused that.

"Don't apologize. This…what you just did…is fucking hot, okay? Me gusta, mi estrella." Santana noted with a low purr that seemed to catch Rachel's attention, Berry's gaze shifting up from her neck to her eyes.

"Duly noted, but…" Rachel started, slithering up Santana's body until her mouth was mere millimeters away. "…break time's over. I wants to get my mack on, San, and I wants it now."

Santana couldn't help but laugh at Rachel's impression, even if she found the growling edge in Berry's voice to be relentlessly sexy. Still, taking those words as a green light to get going, she wrapped her legs around the diva's hips and pulled their bodies together, all too happy to give in to Rachel's requests.

* * *

Rachel flopped back onto the bed, hair too far gone to hold out hope that she could reasonably tame it, what with much of it fused with sweat and plastered across her forehead and cheek. Still, she had enough energy to once more push it out of her field of vision, allowing her to focus on the panting, exhausted girl that had collapsed to her right after grinding Rachel's thigh to orgasm, perhaps with the aid of the diva's hands on her body and a mutually pleasing meeting of lips.

To say she was a little surprised at herself would be an understatement. All night long, she'd tried to set Santana down for a good talk, and one kiss undid all those plans. And what a kiss it was.

Truthfully, she wasn't sure how they'd managed to find the guest bedroom, but she was quite glad they had, and that it had a locking mechanism for privacy. Despite her rather brazen act of desire, she still considered herself a modest woman, and having others see her nearly nude was not something she wished to endure.

Nor had she wished for anyone to happen upon such an exhilarating 'macking' session, as Santana would have called it. As she'd mentioned, she wasn't big on sharing.

Santana groaned and crawled closer, curling up against her side, the action bringing a goofy smile to Rachel's face. "It's okay if you're tired, San. You can sleep." She offered, because even if she'd love to have their talk, she was entirely sleepy as well, and knew San was feeling the effects of a long day.

"Nahhhhh." The cheerleader spoke airily, nearly masking her yawn with it, but not quite getting away with the ruse. "Just gotta keep it short, babe. You know I love my beauty sleep."

Rachel pulled Santana closer, angling Santana's head to rest directly beside hers on the pillow, Santana's body halfway splayed over hers like a living, cuddle-friendly electric blanket. "Not that you need it, San. But I suppose I can keep it short and sweet."

Santana hummed happily at that, the girl shifting close enough to press her lips to Rachel's cheek in response. "Just like you. Short and sweet."

"A height joke and a compliment…so charming." Rachel deadpanned before returning the kiss, chastely pecking Santana's terribly addictive lips and caressing the girl's cheek. "You waited a month for me."

"I would have waited longer if you asked." Santana quietly shot back in her direction, a soft smile gracing her lips. Rachel fully believed her; Santana had followed her lead in every way she required. Even tonight, naked aside from her panties, Santana adhered to 'first base' standards until Rachel let her know it was okay to head to second. And when Santana was worked up from an hour long intense make-out session, the girl had asked her permission to have a thigh, a request Rachel could only breathlessly grant as she aided Santana into a spellbinding climax that enchanted her to the notion of watching the raven-haired beauty orgasm. Just the sight of her unbridled passion and satisfaction had been more than enough to get Rachel off.

It didn't hurt that being basically naked against a nude Santana brought back memories of their weekend wildlife adventure, and how Santana had felt pressed against her, those tan arms holding her so securely, making her feel so safe. Yes, Santana would have waited much longer, but Rachel wouldn't have allowed that to happen. Still, she found the need to express herself properly.

With Santana's eyes closed, she was a little limited in how to express herself, but Rachel knew she'd accommodate the girl she'd fallen for. "You wrote…and you ONLY wrote."

"It's all you asked for, and I didn't want to smother you. You were pretty overwhelmed that morning." Santana answered easily, as if stating a commonly known fact. Rachel figured most would have further intruded, but Santana understood space. It was a wonderful quality.

"You surprised me that morning. It was such a whirlwind, and even if it was appreciated, I wasn't quite ready to respond. I suppose the irony is that if I'd spent those last twenty four hours in Lima with you, perhaps it all could have been clearer between us before I left. Instead, I'd kept away from you so that I could think about you and try to make sense of everything, and if I was ready to make a decision about you." She rambled, though Santana showed no sign of annoyance, just offering a slow, understanding nod after a few moments of silence. "I needed time to work through my thoughts and reservations, but I didn't need a month."

"But you also wanted to tell me in person." Santana stated with another nod, and Rachel could only answer with a kiss so Santana could know she was correct.

"I kept wondering what my future would be like, if it could hurt my career, if I was mature enough to handle a relationship with you. But as time passed, I grew to miss you, and I grew to understand that yes, it might make my life more difficult in one way to be with you, but you…Santana, I know that with you in my life, it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't matter because…and pardon me if I'm looking too far into the future, but… your love would see me through. OUR love would see me though, and the more time I thought about you, the more certain I became that I could feel for you just as strongly as you do for me one day soon, and from then on, I just wanted to come home. To you. And...well... preferably make you mine. Though I'll admit I did surprise myself in the way I went about it." Rachel finished, all red-faced and nervous, because she'd told Santana she'd be brief, and had utterly failed at it.

Santana's low laugh was all the response she got for a few seconds, the reaction from the sleepy girl atop her almost being a little frustrating if Santana wasn't so adorable when sleepy. "Well, you nailed the sweet part down, estrella." Santana spoke with a wry grin before shifting up off Rachel and squinting open her eyes, fighting her exhaustion.

Rachel immediately went to lay Santana back down, but the girl resisted, or at least halfway resisted, looking all shy and flustered as she rubbed noses with her. It was the first time anyone had Eskimo kissed her, and even if it was partially an excuse for Santana to then rest her forehead against Rachel's, it was all sorts of lovely and sweet. Certainly worthy of an excited entry in her diary.

"I'm yours if you'll have me. I'm not perfect, I'm not even good sometimes, but I'm trying to be better and…" Santana's words trailed off as the girl seemed to fight herself over the words caught in her throat. Rachel watched tears well up in the girl's eyes, though whether they were from frustration or perhaps something else was entirely uncertain. However, what she did know was she yearned to hear what the girl above her was struggling with, if only to reassure her or help her.

She lightly rubbed her nose against Santana's, and that seemed to be all it took for the girl to let go of the tension that had been building walls inside of her, a relieved laugh quickly shifting into a shy smile as Santana adoringly looked down at her.

"And...Rachel, I love you, and that's not gonna change any time soon. So I'm yours. You're worth the wait, estrella." Santana's declaration was about as much as Rachel could have hoped for, her arms trembling from emotion that threatened to overwhelm her exhausted body and allow Santana to drop.

But Rachel didn't, instead circling her arms around the girl and guiding her back down to rest against her. "I won't be long, not at this rate." She whispered, her lips gently grazing Santana's ear as she reassured the girl that she would say those three words soon. She was just about ready, and maybe her brain required a dramatic setting or scenario for it as well. "Santana Lopez, will you be my girlfriend?"

The raven haired beauty's brief giggle and nod was answer enough, almost allowing her to let Santana finally slip into slumber. After all, there was simply no way she'd allow her girlfriend to go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.

So she lowered her lips to Santana's, relishing in their softness once more, feeling soothed by the sheer emotion the tired cheerleader injected into each motion. Her girlfriend kissed like her lips were penning a love song, but she supposed it made a little sense that Santana of all people would manage to turn kissing into its own language. Looking forward to having a fantastic tutor, and starting a new day beside her girl, Rachel pulled Santana ever closer and wrapped her legs around her girlfriend's to keep them both in place.

"Sweet dreams, Santana."

A happy sigh and Santana's nose nuzzling her cheek was all she got from the girl before she felt steady, even breaths against her. The smile still gracing sleeping Santana's lips was more than enough of a comfort for Rachel to follow suit mere seconds later.


	7. Epilogue

Honestly, Santana wasn't sure where the summer went, because before she knew it, it was mid August, and the alarm clock she'd been ignoring for two months was waking her up bright and early. It was a massive shift from her usual routine of getting up around eight, meeting up with Rachel after the girl finished breakfast, and basically spending as much of the day with her as possible.

Call her a sap, but the past year had given her a kick in the ass over how quickly distance could form between close friends, and she just didn't want that with Rachel. They were still new, relationship-wise, and there was still so much she didn't know about her girlfriend, so much she looked forward to doing with her. So maybe she kept Rachel close, but that was never much of a problem, since Rachel was constantly inviting her to sit in on her lessons, or go for walks with her, or to come over for a movie night or for dinner.

Dinners had become a regular thing at the Berry household. At first, she'd been more than a little intimidated about meeting the Berry men, out of worry for interrogations, and especially of getting the third degree. It had been a worry of hers for as long as she'd felt something for Rachel, due to her history and how talkative the diva was. She was sure her fathers knew all about their troubled past, and wasn't sure if she would have been able to take it and beg for forgiveness, or if she would have simply shut down entirely from the knowledge that she'd hurt her girlfriend alongside the accusations, stress, and vulnerability of the situation.

However, instead of deeply terrifying interrogations, she got big, friendly hugs. And instead of being faced with her bitchy past toward Rachel, they seemed to take the diva's lead on whether she'd been forgiven or not. Santana hadn't been sure how to really digest all of that, though the traditional 'If you hurt my daughter' spiel later on when she was alone had been enough to let her know there wasn't any storm brewing in the sidelines. They simply trusted their daughter as much as they cared for her, and it warmed Santana's heart to know her girlfriend had people like them on her side.

So pretty much half of her time, once Rachel had returned, had been spent with the diva. Rachel's schedule was still kinda busy despite it being summer break, so the rest of the time was spent alone, or with B and Q. She worked to strike a nice balance, since Britt liked spending alone time with Artie and had her own dance classes, something B took really seriously for good reason. Meanwhile, Quinn loved her reading, and with the help of another Cheerio's dad who was apparently some big published author, also seemed to be working on some sort of writing project, which was pretty cool. And whenever the four found themselves with free nights, which was a pretty regular thing, they'd usually spend them together, watching TV marathons or just hanging out.

All in all, it had been a fantastic summer, one she was sad to see end, but there was a lot to look forward to as she showered and got dressed. Santana was pretty excited to help take Glee to the next level that year, for one. Halloween and Christmas were also looking pretty enticing with Rachel at her side, and her best friends back in the fold. And with the free time she had not leading the Cheerios, well, there was a lot of time to figure out where she'd fit in the future lives of her favourite people.

The naming quandary still hadn't been solved, though both Quinn and Britt seemed content enough with 'Fantastic Four'. Santana had never been a big fan of that team of superheroes as a kid, so needless to say, she disapproved, but if Rachel shifted over to their side, she'd have to give. There was no way Santana could say no to all three of her best friends.

As she stepped out of the shower, she noticed her phone beeping and couldn't hold back her smile as she crossed the room and unlocked it, knowing it was Rachel. Santana Lopez rarely woke up early for anyone, but Rachel had asked for her to come by at six thirty, and even though it was likely just a reminder, it was always pretty nice to hear from the diva. Rachel had a tendency to send her a text every night before bed, but sometimes she'd surprise Santana during the morning as well.

' _Good morning, Santana! I hope you slept well and are nearly ready to pop by for breakfast. Can't wait to see you! xoxoxo - R*_ '

Santana smiled at the message, letting herself laugh a little at the diva's habit of ending her messages with a star. As the weeks had dragged on, she couldn't help but feel entirely endeared towards Berry's cute quirkiness, something Quinn teased her about relentlessly. Still, it was all good-natured, and it wasn't like she didn't also put up with a lot from B and Q that some people would deem odd, but her favourite girls had their crazy quirks. It was her job to, like, support that, and all.

And if she happened to enjoy those quirks, well, that was just a bonus.

It wasn't long before she was out the door and on route to Rachel's, the streets of Lima mostly quiet in the early morning. Sure, Santana could appreciate why Rachel was such a morning person, because there was a certain peacefulness and subtle energy to it all, but it still didn't beat those two extra hours of sleep in her warm, comfy bed.

Predictably, when she pulled into the driveway, Hiram was already outside watering the flowers lining the porch. The man was dedicated, she gave him that, and as per usual, she had no luck sneaking past him without being pulled into a hug. It was still something she was getting used to, never really having had adults in her life that were supremely affectionate like the Berrys. Sure, if her mom was upset and was willing to be seen that way, then she'd usually spend a while being clung to by her mom. And that was alright and all, but it was rare as hell. Adjusting to the Berry men hugging her when she arrived, when she left, when she did things like preparing some extra popcorn for a movie, or just at random, was a bit difficult. Still, it wasn't like Santana remotely hated it, it was actually alright, and they meant a lot to Rachel, so whatever.

"Alright, alright. You can get back to your prize-winning flowers, Hiram, I think I've been hugged thoroughly enough. Any longer and people might mistake you for a care bear." She noted with a bit of sass, knowing Hiram tended to enjoy that side of her. Thankfully, he relinquished his hold of her and shooed her toward the house, as if she'd been the one delaying her arrival.

"LeRoy's got pancakes and bacon waiting inside, and I'm sure a certain diva is waiting impatiently for you." The man stated with a smile that held a similarity to Rachel's in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. Rachel looked so much like Shelby, but it was clear she hadn't gotten all of her looks from the older woman.

Santana nodded and jogged up to the front door, cautiously pulling it open and spotting Rachel nervously pacing off in the living room. Sure, by her phone, she was two minutes late, but Rachel had gotten used to a few minutes of variance. At least, Santana thought she had as she stepped into the foyer.

She was about to call out to Rachel when she noticed LeRoy was in the living room as well, and he and the diva were having some sort of conversation. "For the twelfth time, buttercup, it's taken care of."

"I just need it to be perfect, dad. You know how important this is to me." She heard Rachel argue with her typical passion. Even if it could be a hassle to navigate, and even though they disagreed sometimes, Santana always liked hearing that in Rachel's voice. Imagining Rachel without her trademark passion was like imagining Quinn without that stone cold eyebrow quirk, Britt without her sense of rhythm, and Schue without his vaseline hair. It just wasn't right. Well, except for Schue, he could use a hair care intervention, really.

"I know, and I'm telling you, everything you wanted is ready to go, except for the last item, but that's...as my email is telling me... out for delivery as we speak. So it'll all be ready. I promise." LeRoy spoke, clearly trying to reassure Rachel over whatever it was that was troubling the diva.

Unsure she should continue eavesdropping, Santana made a little more noise than usual in taking off her boots, hopefully making her presence known enough to draw her girlfriend's attention. And as she stood up fully, she barely had time to brace herself for the human-shaped missile colliding against her, Rachel's arms tightly encircling her waist in one of her usual overeager hugs.

"You're here!" Rachel exclaimed happily, swaying side to side when Santana returned the embrace, nuzzling her face in her girlfriend's hair to take in how freaking amazing the diva smelled. It was kind of unfair that Rachel always kept it a secret, but her girlfriend insisted that it let her keep some semblance of mystery.

Still, more mysterious than perfume at the moment was the lack of Rachel's usual manners in greeting her, which told Santana that something was a little off. It took the slightest quirk of an eyebrow when they separated for Berry to break, looking immediately flustered.

"Sorry, I just...it's the first day of school, and you're three minutes late, and I know you're often fashionably late no matter the occasion, but it's a big day and I'm a little nervous and on edge." Rachel rambled, and it was pretty believable, honestly. So Santana let her worries dissipate, leaning closer to kiss Rachel's temple and pull her into another hug.

"I know, your dad kind of cut me off at the pass, so you can blame him. But for the record...good morning, Rach." She noted in response, offering her girlfriend another kiss to the nose, knowing Rachel liked those best out of all their extra chaste, safe-for-Berry-household kisses. Not that kissing on the lips was entirely outlawed, but the Berry men had a tendency to catch them in the act and tease them relentlessly over it. Santana never minded all that much, but Rachel tended to get annoyed by their intrusions, so they kept those ones for when they were alone, at least in Rachel's house.

"Good morning, San." Rachel answered quietly with a pink blush filling her cheeks, her lithe hands moving down Santana's arms to play with her fingers. "We're going to be okay, today. We're going to have a fantastic breakfast and start the day off on the right note, and we're going to go to school, and...and we're going to be alright." The diva finished with a decisive nod, giving Santana's fingers a light squeeze.

They'd been working up to this morning for a while, both alone and in public, and she knew that despite all their preparations Rachel was still worried. It had taken a while to figure out what was troubling the diva, but it was nothing insurmountable. And really, it only warmed her heart more to know Rachel was just worried that she wouldn't be able to protect her girlfriend if push came to shove.

"We will, I know. I promise." Santana said, giving Berry's hands a little squeeze as well, hoping to reassure her. "Now, how about we get some breakfast? I'm starving."

Sure, Santana was still a little worried about how things would go and what people would say, but she had Rachel's support. She had Quinn and Brittany's support. And, despite not being one anymore, she had the full weight of the Cheerios behind her, which had been a pleasant surprise. Finally, spending the summer out and about with Rachel, and being pretty damn public, she was sure that to some degree, their relationship and her sexuality was old news. And that all had her feeling they'd be okay.

Rachel seemed to be at least a little less nervous as she shot Santana a smile and led her into the kitchen where LeRoy was waiting, frying up a fresh batch of bacon.

Yeah, she was pretty sure they'd start the school year off damn nicely.

* * *

In Rachel's eyes, the day had gone fairly well, all things considered. Aside from an off colour remark by Azimio, which resulted in an 'accidental' collision between him and Santana that may have ruptured a testicle and had him rushed to the hospital, life at school had gone swimmingly. Sure, she noticed a lot more leering than before, which was fairly expected given the utter lack of attention she tended to receive through her first three years at school, slushies aside. However, if a little more pseudo-sexual staring from other students was the price to pay for being out with Santana, then she was willing to pay it. Given some of the more fearful possible reactions to their being out together, it actually felt like a huge relief.

Frankly, being a romantic, she was fond of the mere idea of being in a public relationship. However, the specifics of Santana holding her hand as they walked the halls, Santana kissing her nose farewell after walking her to class, Rachel being able to hug Santana as often as she wished, Rachel not having to stretch her body to the heavens to kiss Santana's lips when they met for lunch, it was all quite wonderful.

Though no benefit of dating Santana was more spellbindingly wonderful as when the girl had, after walking Rachel to English at the end of lunch period, kissed her ear and whispered three very sweet words that continued to bounce around in her head throughout the rest of the day.

_'Love you, Rach.'_

They hadn't been dating tremendously long, but across that period of time, they'd spent much of it together, learning about each other and experiencing each other. There was never any pressure to say the words back, and Rachel had been thankful for it. Not because she wasn't ready; no, she had been ready since one morning nearly two weeks ago.

However, her flair for dramatics insisted that she express herself and how she felt properly. Which, naturally, was through musical performance, the most romantic of them all. It had taken days, literal days, to decide on the perfect song, and even longer to get everything prepared and in place, and now she was finally ready. Today was the day, and she couldn't be more excited about it.

And when Rachel skipped into the choir room for glee and saw the jazz band and some members of OSU's music program decked out with all the instruments she'd requested, her enthusiasm multiplied. Sure, the addition of a few older looking faces may have been suspicious, but McKinley regularly had seniors transferring in and out, so she figured it wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. Yet again, being first to glee practice bore fruit in her handing out her sheet music early, before anyone could spy what it was and ruin her surprise. Rachel managed to slip back into her usual seat before Kurt and Mercedes strolled in, both whispering and giggling as usual, likely going over all the new gossip they may have missed out on over the summer months.

Rachel sat there rummaging through her notebook idly, not really needing it, but wanting to appear in character in case Santana's psychic Mexican third eye flared up. Thankfully, when her girlfriend did arrive, it was with Quinn and Brittany in tow, and the raven-haired beauty simply blew her a kiss before climbing the risers to sit behind her in a row. Quinn had insisted that the three sit together and be isolated a little until after their musical number was finished, and Rachel understood that need to be entirely focused as a team, in preparation for their first number as a group since they joined glee.

Eventually, Mister Schuester decided to attend the club; the man's tardiness was one area Rachel hoped to improve upon before the end of the year, but she wasn't entirely confident in it, given how entrenched the habit was.

As per usual, the man did his spiel about taking this year's competition seriously, and opened the floor for new member auditions, Kurt's boyfriend Blaine singing a decidedly animated rendition of 'It's Not Unusual' to take his place among the team, Kurt rushing down to celebrate with him as the final notes played. It was honestly nice to see new members joining, and her jealousy not flaring up as it had in the past; while Blaine had been Dalton's star, she doubted he'd take too much spotlight from her, and would likely help their cause in pushing for a championship. So all in all, gaining a talented new member was a big step toward completing her annual goals.

"Great work, Blaine. Welcome to the New Directions!" Schuester exclaimed, patting the boy's shoulder amicably, and honestly they looked like two peas in a pod. Of course, Santana had remarked about the two's similarities over the summer months, mostly about how both of their hairstyles required peak saturation in gel or other products. Rachel had requested she be less vocal about it at school and in glee, but couldn't help but agree a little on the uncanny similarities, what with the hair, the plaid, the sweater-vests, the overly strong jaws, the animated stage presence, and a few other minor traits that were slightly unnerving.

Blaine moved back to his seat, but Kurt plopped down right beside Rachel instead of following his boyfriend up the risers. It was a curious move that could only mean the boy had something to question her about, otherwise most friendly comments would usually be left for after school.

"Any plans to start the glee season off with a bang, Miss Berry?" Kurt asked playfully with a light shoulder nudge. While it was true that she always had a number ready for every glee session, especially the first one of each year, Rachel just offered him a light smile and shook her head.

"I think I'll take a step back at first and let the rest of the members showcase their talent, and see who has taken time to prepare over the summer." Rachel explained, drawing a nod from the perfectly coiffed boy beside her.

"And you think anyone aside from us mainstays will? Rachel, we may be a good team, but we have leaders and we have, as Finn would call them, second-stringers, backups. And that's not bad, but if you're expecting them to step up…well, I won't be opposed to performing a number I worked on over the past week, and Mercedes is always ready to belt out something, because I expect a lot of open time to fill, as usual." Kurt argued, and in previous years he would be correct, but Rachel couldn't help but hold her smile and offer a shrug, knowing the lack of a verbose response would draw his attention.

Rachel lasted through two shoulder nudges, the second earning a low rumbling growl from Santana, before she broke her silence. "As Whitney Houston once sang, 'there can be miracles, when you believe…'. I think you might be surprised, Kurt."

"So, now that we've introduced Blaine, and discussed my expectations for the club this year, I'm going to open the floor to the club's members. I'm sure some of you had some eventful summers, and music is a fantastic way to express that, and how you feel starting another year of school. Does anyone have anything prepared?" Schuester asked, drawing the pair's attention to the front of the choir room. Rachel felt thankful the unholy trinity had prepared a song in case no one else did, because with how energized the teacher was, it was clear that he was eager to break out into song or, Barbra forbid, rap if given the chance.

Without word, the three girls behind her stood and made their way to the floor, Schue offering a confused smile as he stepped away and gestured for them to take it away. Again, it was understandable; it was rare enough that any of the girls would perform under the spotlight in glee, and as a trio, they had only done a single number. Judging by the rest of the group's reactions, it was clear that the club was a little intrigued.

Rachel watched the trio get into the familiar V formation she'd seen them practicing from; apparently, each girl had put forward a recommendation for the song choice, and Quinn had come out on top in a tournament of rock-paper-scissors. When the band broke into the opening melody of 'Come See About Me', Rachel could only sit back, relax, and watch her friends work their smoothly choreographed magic.

"Did you know about this?" Kurt whispered, distracting Rachel a tiny bit from the start of the performance, though she'd seen it about fifty times, so it wasn't exactly new and exciting. Well, still exciting, but not new.

"They collaborated on and choreographed a number of performances this summer in preparation for this year. This was one of them." Rachel bluffed, knowing the girls did work on a few different numbers, but if a little white lie could put a little fear into Kurt's competitive mind, all the better. The only reaction she needed from him was his eyes bulging at the perfect display in front of him; each girl was entirely in sync, from shifts of their hips to hand gestures to each of their voices.

With Quinn's pitch issues in her upper register now gone, which had been ironed out after extensive one on one sessions in late July, and Brittany's monotonous phrasing and inconsistent breath control improved upon through the work of Rachel's custom-crafted training program, the group's performance was reminiscent of a high efficiency Cheerios routine. That level of detail and perfectionism seemed to take its toll on Kurt as seconds passed, the boy sinking further in his seat over the course of the song, even if he was clearly impressed.

Feeling it impolite to talk during the group number, Rachel quickly sent a text to her friend-slash-competitor, wanting to stoke the fires of his ego a little. _'It seems as if some previous glee B-listers have risen up the club's totem pole, Kurt. With four new competitors for solos and duets, you may have your work cut out for you going forward. If you ever want to discuss duets or solos to better establish and develop your considerable talent, I'm always available.'_ She typed out, hitting send in time for her to catch the tail end of the song in full detail. Which, more or less, had Rachel's gaze all over her girlfriend.

Honestly, Rachel should have known Santana would have worn that green and blank striped dress, given Santana's love of teasing her over her well established minor fixation on the girl's cute bum. Each time the former cheerleader had her back to the risers and choreography called for looking over their shoulder or a turn, Santana's eyes would be full of mischief and locked on Rachel's own. Perhaps their effect on her would be less embarrassing had this been the first time witnessing it, but she'd sat in on the group's practice sessions at least a dozen times, and those looks never failed to send a rather lovely sensation through her body.

That, combined with the giddy joy that seemed to burst from all three girls as their song's last note faded away, was enough to propel Rachel from her seat to give each of them a patented Rachel Berry hug, starting with Brittany, and then Quinn, to get back at Santana for teasing her. So unfair.

"Girls, that was really impressive. Looks like we're going to have a lot more competition inside the club for nabbing those competition numbers now." Mister Schuester announced as he clapped in approval, matching the rest of the club's respectful applause.

"Well, we decided we weren't as polished as we needed to be to win last year, so we put in some work over the summer. Let this put everyone here on notice…being good isn't good enough. Step up your games or not only will our club be hard pressed to win it all this year, you'll be hard pressed to take those solos and group number spotlights from us." Quinn stated confidently, Rachel beaming with pride at the blonde slipping in a 'Hallelujah, Baby!' reference into her open challenge.

"Consider the gauntlet thrown, bitches." Santana laughed good-naturedly, pulling Rachel away from Quinn's side and into a tight hug as the rest of the glee members erupted in the risers. It was quite nice to hear the club so stirred up, but even nicer to be able to be close to her girlfriend again after a long afternoon of barely seeing each other. The taller girl, after a few fantastically pleasant seconds, loosened her hold and pressed those pillow soft lips chastely to her nose, drawing a blush to the diva's cheeks, and even more desire to ensure the rest of the day would go as planned.

Eventually, as Quinn and Brittany made their way back to their seats, the crowd died down a little, some looking on in confusion as Santana attempted to guide Rachel back to their seats as well, while the diva remained stock still.

"Mister Schue? May I present the club with a musical number of my own?" Rachel asked, shooting him a customary hopeful look that usually seemed to ensure his cooperation. Thankfully, he nodded, allowing her plan to be put into action right on schedule.

"The floor is yours, Rachel." He noted, taking a seat at the front of the risers as Rachel gestured to the group to get ready to start on the drummer's mark.

This was it. This was her grand gesture, her musical moment which she stuffed all of her emotions and bottled up thoughts and feelings into, needing Santana to know that she was ready to say those words now, that she was ready to express herself at the same level Santana had over the past weeks. Rachel was ready.

"I plant the kind of kiss that wouldn't wake a baby…on the self-same face that wouldn't let me sleep…" Rachel sang wistfully, recalling that one morning she woke and felt love wash over her as much as the early morning sunshine had washed over their gloriously tangled mess of limbs.

It was then that she had known the depth of her emotions for the sleeping girl beside her, and it had taken all her willpower not to wake Santana and express the balm on her soul the taller girl's love provided her. Not just due to the lack of proper musical accompaniment, but also because it was just after six in the morning and her girlfriend deserved all she could offer, even if that was just a few more hours of sleep at that point in time. Not that Rachel could get another wink of shuteye that morning after that revelation, certainly not with Santana looking so cute and relaxed as she slumbered.

Given the soft smile that took over Santana's features as Rachel held her gaze, it was clear her girlfriend knew she was being serenaded, and the sight of that subtle joy was enough to be certain she'd made the right decision.

"And the street is singing with my feet, and the dawn gives me a shadow I know to be taller…" She continued, unable to help from grinning at Santana letting out an amused laugh at the reference to her height, knowing the taller girl liked teasing her endlessly over it, even if it was always with good intent and was always made up for. "All down to you, dear. Everything has changed."

It was true, honestly. Santana had stepped into her life and expanded upon it wonderfully in a bevy of ways that made her want to keep growing, keep improving, to be a better person for herself, and for her girlfriend, and for her friends and family. Santana was flawed, true, but she challenged her and supported her in ways no other romantic partner had before, and it was a wonderful experience she couldn't get enough of.

"My sorry name has made it to graffiti. I was looking for…someone to complete me. Not anymore, dear. Everything has changed." Rachel sang as the orchestral members slowly swelled into the composition, coming to the most poignant lyrical point of the song, where she hoped the words would ring as true with Santana as they did with her.

There was a musicality to life when she was around Santana, one that may not have caused her life to be awash in dramatic music-driven events, but which nonetheless brought a subtle melody to their encounters that always had her on the verge of breaking out in song, and finding backing music in the ambient sounds surrounding them.

"You make the moon our mirror ball…the street's an empty stage. The city's sirens violins…everything has changed." As Rachel finished the chorus, she watched Santana's teeth pull at her lower lip, valiantly fighting the dazzling smile she knew her girlfriend was feeling. She wanted the former cheerleader to just let go and be that tiny bit vulnerable, to know she was safe with her, to know she was loved wholeheartedly. She wanted Santana to just let herself be, and embrace all Rachel was showing her. With all of the storming, bottled up emotions in her heart, she focused intensely on her girlfriend, dousing each of the following words with as much heartfelt sincerity as her body could muster. "So lift off love…lift off love…"

Just the sight of Santana's eyes growing wide and glassy the second that L word was sung had Rachel straining to finish the song and not just burst into a puddle of purified glee and bliss, seeing that love reflected back at her openly.

"We took the town to town last night…we kissed like we invented it." Rachel continued, stepping closer to the risers, closer to Santana's awestruck self, aborting her plan to stay put in favor of sharing this moment with the girl she'd fallen in love with. "And now I know what every step is for…to lead me to your door. Know that while you sleep, everything has changed."

Rachel crossed the final steps to Santana's chair and knelt before the beautiful girl who had captured her heart, carefully taking one of those smooth, strong hands in her own. "You make the moon our mirror ball…the street's an empty stage. The city's sirens violins…everything has changed." She sang, peering up at Santana, needing her to know what difference the girl made in her life, needing to know that this change both of them went through was a wonderful one, and one she cherished.

"Everything has changed…" Rachel repeated as the mini orchestra filled in their solo, allowing her enough of a breather to stand and tug at her girlfriend. Santana offered no resistance, allowing the diva to guide her out of her seat and to the middle of the floor.

As the music swirled around them, as the electricity of her emotions coursed through her body, Rachel couldn't help but smile brilliantly up at the radiant girl in front of her. Slowly, she lifted a hand to cup Santana's cheek, her girlfriend's eyelashes blinking welled up tears down her cheeks as a wide smile matched Rachel's own.

"So lift off, love…" She sang softly, the sound of strings filling the air and complementing her vocal tone, loving the small breathless laugh the words evoked from her girlfriend, loving that deep in those dark eyes of Santana, she could see how overwhelmed the girl was, yet Santana stood there with her instead of running out. Santana stayed, and let her share their love publicly, in song, in a grand gesture, without complaint or a hint of hesitance.

With that pure acceptance reflected back at her, with that openness warming Rachel's heart, and with the song basically over aside from a few more repetitions of that last line, Rachel led her girlfriend across the room to the door and led her out, any comments or praise from the other gleeks entirely unnecessary in comparison to the connection she was feeling between the two of them. The show would go on, she paid good money to ensure that, but she would allow herself to skip out on the final bits of a performance just this once.

As she silently skipped down the hall, Santana jogging along with her as the sound of music faded, Rachel could feel the unbound excitement of the night to come. It was only when they slipped into her Prius that their silence was effectively broken by Santana's lips crashing against her own, the former cheerleader moving across the center console to straddle her in the driver's seat. It was a tight fit, but Rachel was not about to complain.

She savored the kiss, so characteristically Santana in its passion and sheer need, her hands skimming down her girlfriend's torso to lightly grip that glorious bum of hers. Still, she had a schedule to stick to, and while making out in her car would be fantastic, she had a much better venue arranged for the night. A quick little pat to Santana's rear had the raven-haired beauty pulling away, eyes dark with desire, flitting back and forth between Rachel's own mocha irises and her kiss-bitten lips.

"Everything okay, estrella?" Santana murmured, her head leaning forward again to rest against Rachel's, their lips barely an inch apart.

"Everything's perfect, love." Rachel whispered in return, smiling up at the girl in her lap, adoring their proximity even if it was getting in the way of the second part of her reveal. "It's just that I might have arranged for a better place for us to…express ourselves." She added, fighting against giggles that threatened to erupt out of her as Santana peppered kisses across her face; while Rachel loved the affection, and wanted to give into it, she really did have better plans for the two of them than kissing in her car.

"You sang a love song to me." Santana spoke softly once she'd finished putting her mouth to work in wondrous ways, drawing a slight nod from Rachel, who was all too happy to wrap her arms around the girl's waist and hold her close. "You sang about loving me."

Again, Rachel nodded, taking a moment to plant a fleeting kiss to Santana's lips. "If there is any doubt in your mind, baby…I love you, Santana. I'm IN love with you." She confessed, getting the feeling that her girlfriend yearned to hear that string of words from her, and while Rachel would have preferred to do that at their eventual destination instead of her car, Santana's immediately tearfully blissful response was something she would never regret.

Not with Santana sinking against her, breaths hitched and unsteady as the girl's head slipped to the side of Rachel's, a soft cheek nuzzling against the diva's affectionately as they held each other in the driver's seat, the intimacy of the moment just about exceeding any other in her recollection, knowing what those words meant to Santana.

"I love you so much, Rachel." Santana whispered eventually, the girl settling in on Rachel's lap as comfortably as one could reasonably manage. "Sorry for, like…jumping you and all here, but I'm not sure you know what that meant to me, singing for me in there. Singing a song like that to me, about loving me, and…and now saying those words…God, estrella, I don't want to let you go, but I figure your grand gesture's probably not all over, is it?"

Rachel smiled at the shy rambling, enjoying that giddy little grin on her girlfriend's face, knowing she put it there, no one else. "There is a second part, yes. And I don't want to let go of you, love, but…we should get going, and I'll need both hands free to drive safely. However, if you felt like holding my thigh while I drive…"

Santana's theatrical sigh was nearly enough to have her laughing again if the taller girl hadn't thrown back her head and exposed that lovely, untouched neck of hers in the process. "If we must part…" Santana deadpanned as she reluctantly shifted back into the passenger seat, allowing one hand to remain on Rachel's thigh, gripping it lightly as the diva shook off her residual desire and started the vehicle.

* * *

Santana was pretty sure she was dreaming as Rachel drove her through Lima. The last twenty minutes or so had just been so surrealistically perfect that it was hard to wrap her head around it all. Not once had she heard a peep from Rachel about singing during the first glee session. Not once had she even heard a note or two of the song Rachel sang. So had she been confused as hell sitting there when Rachel's little impromptu orchestra started up? Hells yes.

But still, it was glee, it was music, and it was Rachel, so she hadn't been too surprised about the diva giving a performance. No, it was Rachel serenading her that had caught Santana off guard, never really having experienced that before. Honestly, it'd been heartwarming as all hell, and she hadn't cared that she looked like a sap being all smiles about it, either. Especially not when the song's first line was about kissing, and had Santana remembering back to all the amazing mack sessions she and Rachel had shared together.

But when that special four letter word left Rachel's lips, Santana had been stunned. Far too taken by surprise to mask her joy too much, certainly, and when those declarations were followed by more singing about kissing, all Santana had wanted to do was have their first kiss as a couple in love, to share their first hug as two women in love, and to be close to her girlfriend in general.

So maybe when Rachel pulled her out of her seat, Santana was too much in love to care about the consequences of what others might think, knowing whatever happened, they'd have each other. And maybe when they got into Rachel's car, she saw an opportunity to fulfill all three of her bubbling desires, and didn't quite care about the logistics of it all. Though it did bring up the fantasy of giving Rachel road head, which was more than a little frustrating to deal with as they zipped through the streets of their hometown.

Partially because she wanted to stop the car and continue expressing how amazing Rachel made her feel, and how happy she was, partially because Rachel never failed to get her libido thrumming, but also because she had no idea where they were going, having passed any general routes toward either of their homes. When Santana realized they'd driven through Lima and were on their way out southbound, she couldn't remain silent anymore.

"So…where are we going, preciosa?" Santana asked, the cogs in her brain spinning in an attempt to figure out what the diva had in store for them. She was honestly drawing blanks, and while that was exciting, always having loved surprises, or at least good ones, Santana couldn't help but just want to be at their destination as soon as possible.

"That would be a surprise, San. But don't worry, it's not a long drive." Rachel answered cryptically, and given that the diva hadn't tossed on her usual Barbra Streisand mix-CD, it was a good sign that they weren't more than a few minutes from wherever the hell they were going.

Still, Santana couldn't help but grin deviously as a memory popped into her head. "But Rachel, you did say before that it's important to be honest and open in our relationship, right?" She asked, earning arguably the hardest eye-roll she'd ever seen Rachel give, the diva letting out a disbelieving scoff at her attempt to weasel out the location. Once she was sure Rachel wouldn't budge on that front, Santana leaned closer to her girlfriend, her lips maybe an inch from the girl's cheek. "You won't tell me? Not even for a kiss?"

Santana watched Rachel's cheeks turn red, the diva's expression growing more determined, but still no answer. Feeling out of options to tease her girlfriend with, and more or less fine with having to wait, Santana kissed the diva's cheek before lifting up the center console and shifting in her seat to better lean against Rachel for the rest of the ride. "Okay, babe. I'll close my eyes, even, so your surprise is that much bigger. Sound good?"

"Technically…technically it's unsafe for you to be sitting like this, love, but…but I'm a safe driver, and I trust my abilities, so yes, close your eyes, baby. I'll let you know when we're there." Rachel whispered softly in response, the diva's words spurring Santana's eyelids to shut with confidence that whatever her diva had in store, it would be worth the wait and the hassle. Hey, snuggling up to Rachel in the car kept her close, and if she couldn't kiss or hold her until they stopped, then she could at least enjoy that.

As far as she was concerned, the ride wherever they went was smooth and not long enough, even if it did seem to go on longer than Santana expected it to. Given that midway through the drive, Rachel started humming that song she sang in glee, Santana figured that was the reason the diva hadn't put Barbra on, and maybe it earned her sweet as sugar girlfriend a foot massage later.

"So we're here, but can you keep your eyes closed just a little longer, San?" Rachel asked as the diva parked the car. It was a reasonable enough request, so Santana nodded and felt for the door handle, slipping out of the car and waiting to be escorted.

Barely seconds later, two hands slipped into Santana's own and slowly led her around, well, wherever they were. Santana could hear running water nearby, and the rustling of leaves, as well as the familiar crunching of twigs and rocks underneath. They were definitely outdoors, but given her father would generally take her out of state for any wilderness adventures, she wasn't quite sure where in the blue hell they were.

After a brief minute of walking, Rachel's hands slipped away, substituted by those two lithe arms wrapping around her waist from behind, the feeling of her girlfriend holding her for once sending Santana's heart aflutter for about the millionth time that afternoon.

"Open your eyes, baby." Rachel whispered into her ear, sending a brief chill down her spine from the wonderfully husky tone the diva could pull off sometimes.

For all Rachel had given her today, as far as Santana was concerned, the diva's wish was her command. Without a moment's hesitation, her eyes fluttered open and saw a sight that stole her breath. Resting a few feet away were their backpacks from their weekend trek through the wild, more or less just how they'd left them once they'd reached civilization again, complete with the tarp, tent and lantern that hung from hers.

It all brought back the memory of the attack, being so scared for Rachel's safety, being so upset over worrying her, and how the diva had protected her near the end. Santana's eyes scanned the area, spotting mostly a smallish densely wooded area with a cottage off in the distance, and a creek close by.

Rachel had taken her camping.

"Now, my dads insisted that they remain nearby as supervisors, so they booked the cabin, but I thought we could camp out here tonight, and you could show me how to put the tent together, because while you told me how to disassemble it, that's a much different process than assembling it, and it could help us start something new. I want to experience this part of your life with you, and I want to build this tent with you, and build a fire with you, and cook some vegetable soup with you, and curl up in our tent together, and carve our own little wooden tokens to commemorate tonight, and just experience what…" Rachel rambled, and while it was so sweet and cute, it was also too much for Santana to handle without a little hug action because fuck if she wasn't all misty eyed. So midway through the nervous rambling, after she'd gotten the gist of it, Santana turned in her diva's arms and pulled the girl as close to her as possible, relishing in the feeling of holding her girlfriend, and of being held by this intensely cute little fireball of a diva who so easily navigated the route to her heart.

"This…this is perfect, Rachel. I want all of that with you." Santana choked out, pulling back far enough to plant a lingering kiss on the diva's lips, packing as much love into those few seconds as she could, needing to both show and tell Rachel how she felt. With a light caress to her girlfriend's cheek, Santana leaned back, their lips parting far enough for her to speak again. "You understand you're making it hard for any potential ladies in my future to live up to you, right?"

Rachel's eyebrow shot up, the girl shooting her a thankfully playful glare once Santana realized what she'd said. "I'll remind you I'm an only child who loathes sharing, San. I play for keeps."

With her cheeks all warm and blushing once more, Santana dipped forward, pecking a quick kiss to her girlfriend's nose, an unspoken thanks for seeing through her words to her real message, and for replying in kind. For once, she was wanted as much as she wanted. She was loved as much as she loved. And that had her heart feeling so tremendously full she could barely believe it was her own.

"I love you, Rachel. More than I think I could ever express, but like hell if I won't try." She whispered once her lips were clear of that cute nose of Rachel's, knowing she'd told the girl those words dozens of times already, but feeling like it was necessary to really push the point home and, as the diva put it, start something new. Something great.

"And I love you, Santana Lopez." Rachel spoke in turn, smiling at her with such blatant hope and love that it was staggering to her instincts, but soothing to her heart, knowing she might not be used to it yet, but that Rachel Barbra Berry was pretty damn special. Certainly more than capable of rendering one Santana Lopez a puddle of romantically infused goo with the flash of a single smile.

It had her hoping this could last.

"Then let's get started, estrella."

**Author's Note:**

> It was hard to finish this story. Mostly because as I edited it, I wasn't sure on what note to end it. Decided to go the sappy/fluffy route, because like hell if it isn't the season for that sort of thing, and both of these girls deserve something nice and wonderful, at least for a while. I hope you enjoyed this little adventure as much as I have!


End file.
